The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Chamber of Secrets
by Yugioash
Summary: What could be worse than Voldemort trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone? Try the heir of Slytherin opening the Chamber of Secrets and releasing an ancient monster on all Muggle-born and Squibs. But who could this heir of Slytherin be? And why is it a house elf is trying to kick Harry out of Hogwarts while all of it is happening? Only one way to find out. 2nd story of the series
1. The Dursley Visit Comes to an End

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Chamber of Secrets**

 **The Dursley Visit Comes to an End**

Two weeks. That's how long it been since Harry was stuck with the Dursleys. That's how long Harry had to entertain himself with listening to his uncle yell at the tv screen while watching soccer. And that's how long it been since Harry last heard from his friends.

It didn't help that the Dursleys wouldn't let Harry let Hedwig out of her cage to get some exercise, but they won't let Harry contact his family with muggle stuff.

"Just give it time," his dad said, "Once we go home, we'll figure out what was going on."

Easy for his dad to say. The Dursleys were scared of him. James was a fully grown fully trained wizard, while Harry can't use magic outside school grounds.

You wouldn't think Harry was related to the Dursleys. His uncle: Vernon as a large neckless man with an enormous black mustache, his Aunt Petunia was horse faced and bony; and Dudley was blond, pink, and porky.

Harry was related to them through his aunt, who was his late mother's sister.

Most of their visits, Harry and James stayed inside, so that the neighbors don't think they're there.

Today Harry and James were spending the last day with the Dursleys for breakfast.

"Now, as we all know, today is a very important day," said Vernon.

"Here, here," James responded as a joke.

Vernon glared at James. "This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career."

"I wish you the best of luck," James responded.

Harry rolled his eyes. His dad always does this on the last day of their visit. Especially if the Dursleys had planned something the very night they leave. And tonight was no different

Vernon had set up a dinner party with some rich builder and his wife in hopes to get a huge order for drills at his work.

"I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon. "We should be all in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be—?"

"In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."

"Good, good. And Dudley?"

"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"

"They'll love him!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.

"Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon nastily. "Then I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eight-fifteen—"

"I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia.

"And, Dudley, you'll say—"

"May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman.

"My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia.

"Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"

"Vernon tells me you're a _wonderful_ golfer, Mr. Mason… _Do_ tell me where you brought your dress, Mrs. Mason…"

"Perfect… Dudley?"

"How about—'We have to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and _I_ wrote about _you_.'"

Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son as James and Harry bit back their laughter. The Dursleys had to be the only people they met that takes dinner parties _this_ seriously. Sure the been to magical dinner parties, but never did they had to rehearse for it.

"When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten. We'll be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time tomorrow."

"Again, I wish you luck," James said. "Especially since Harry and I will be gone before dinner."

"Ah, right—I mean good!" Vernon said. "I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me."

After the breakfast meeting, Petunia started cleaning and Harry snuck out the back door. Whenever Petunia started cleaning and Vernon is out shopping or working, Harry could sneak out and enjoy the daylight. As long as he stay hidden from the neighbors and sneak in when he hears Vernon's Car, the Dursleys never know.

Well, except Dudley, but Harry found out a long time ago that if he bribe Dudley muggle money for candy, his cousin normally keep his mouth shut.

Harry slumped down on the garden bench and rested, doing the one thing he been doing a lot lately, wondering how his friends are doing.

He sat there for so long, wondering, he thought he saw two enormous green eyes behind the bushes.

"All right Dudley, come on out!" Harry said.

"What?" Dudley waddling toward him from a direction.

"Wait, that wasn't you?" Harry asked.

"What are you talking about?" Dudley asked.

"In the Hedge," Harry said.

Dudley stared at Harry as if trying to figure out if Harry was pulling something over him.

"Stop acting strange Potter." Dudley said. "Or else I'll tell mum you been sneaking out here."

"Fine, but then you'll have to say goodbye to your candy money," Harry said.

Dudley shut up after that.

Harry looked back at the Hedge and saw the huge eyes were gone.

By six o'clock Harry and James were packed up and were putting everything in their Ministry approved car.

"Finally," Harry said as they pulled up to the Potter Cottage in Godric Hollows.

"Another two weeks another break," James said.

They opened the door to the cottage, and were about to collapsed on the couch, when they notice that something was already sitting there, someone who didn't belong there.


	2. A Strange Warning from a House Elf

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **A Strange Warning from a House Elf**

The little creature had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Harry knew instantly this was the thing that been watching him out of the Garden Hedge back at the Dursley place. Harry also quickly realized what the creature was as his uncle Padfoot had one back in his place—a House elf. They're unpaid servants (or slaves) who could work for a wizarding family for generations for their whole life—or at least until their master gives them clothes which frees them.

The Potter family use to have House Elves, but when James Lilly and Harry went into hiding, James had the House Elves move to Hogwarts where he knew they would be treated well for their own safety incase Voldemort did find them.

After Lilly's death, and James started working at Hogwarts, most of the House Elves stayed at Hogwarts to serve him there.

Harry also met some of the House Elves that either helped raised his dad, or were born after Voldemort disappeared. But neither Harry or James recognized this elf.

 _Now that I think about it, I haven't been able to visit them last year,_ Harry thought

The house elf slipped off the couch and bowed so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. Harry noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arms and legs. Another indication that the House Elf wasn't one of their own. James never had his elves dressed like that.

"Hello," James said, "Who are you?"

"Harry Potter and his father James Potter!" said the creature in a high-pitched voice. "So long had Dobby wanted to meet you, sirs… such an honor it is... Even Dobby has heard of how the Potter family treating their elves as equals."

"Thank you," Harry responded, "I think."

"Does your family treat you well?" James asked.

Dobby shook his head. Then without warning he got up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, " _Bad_ Dobby! _Bad_ Dobby!"

"Whoa, stop that!" James grabbed Dobby, trying to stop the elf from banging his head.

"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby spoke ill of his family, sir…"

"That's okay! Just stop punishing yourself," James said, "House Elves aren't allowed to punish themselves in my house."

"You are kind! If only you were Dobby's master," Dobby said. "Dobby's family care not if Dobby punish himself. They encourage Dobby to punish himself."

Harry couldn't help but stare at his dad and Dobby.

"Dobby, why are you here?" James asked.

"Dobby had to come sir. Dobby went against his own master's wishes to do so, but Dobby had to, in order to deliver a message," Dobby cried. "Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he _does_ have to punish himself later… _Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts_."

James and Harry were quiet in complete shock.

"W-what?" Harry stammered. "But I want to go back. Hogwarts is a second home to me. I love it there."

"No, no, no," squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. "Harry must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."

Now it was James turn to snap out of his shock as concern as both Harry's father and Hogwarts Professor kicked in.

"What do you mean mortal danger?" James asked.

"There is a plot. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months, sirs. Harry must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"

James tightened his grip on Dobby. "Dobby, listen closely. I'm a Hogwarts Professor as well as Harry's father. If something is about to happen at Hogwarts, I have the right to know so I can keep both my son _and_ his friends _and_ classmates safe. Now tell me, what kind of terrible things are going to happen, and who's plotting them?"

"You mean like the friends who don't write back to Harry Potter?" Dobby asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Dobby would have shuffled his feet on the ground if James wasn't holding him.

"Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best—"

James glared at the house elf. "You been stopping my son's letters? Where are they?"

"Dobby has them here, sir," said the elf. He manage to wiggle free from James' grip and dropped to the ground. Then Dobby pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of his pillowcase clothing. Harry could make out Hermione's Ron's Neville's and Hagrid's handwriting. Not only that but there were some from Sirius, Remus and Tonks too.

"Hey! Some of those came from Uncle Padfoot, Uncle Moony, and Tonks!" Harry responded.

"You little—" James breathed heavily trying to stop himself from doing something he'll regret. "It's bad enough you stopped owls from Harry's friends, but you stopped owls from his family as well!"

"It was to keep Harry Potter from going to Hogwarts!" Dobby said.

Harry made a grab for the letters, but Dobby just jumped out of the way. Fortunately, James took out his wand. _"Accio letters!"_

The envelopes flew out of Dobby's hands and into James' hands. At that moment, Dobby snapped his fingers and with a loud _crack_ sound he was gone.

"Harry, stay here," James said handing his son the letters. "I'm going to the Ministry to see about preventing your letters from being taken."

Harry nodded as James went to the Fire Place too floo out of there.

Harry looked down at his letters as he thought to himself, _Just what kind of terrible things are about to happen at Hogwarts that will make a House Elf to do this?_


	3. Twelfth Birthday with Suggestions

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **Twelfth Birthday with Suggestions**

James didn't get back until hours later. Apparently Dobby had set up some kind of misguidance magic around anywhere where Harry went so that the owls would be confused to where to send the mail. Not only that, but even if the Dursleys had allowed Harry to send owl mail, the magic would also redirect his letters to Dobby.

Not only that, but if the Dursleys had allowed Harry to owl mail them back, Hedwig would have been confused of where to go and the send it to Dobby by mistake.

Soon it was Harry's twelfth Birthday and Harry was excited and for a good reason.

Last year Harry became the youngest Quidditch Player in the Century by being allowed to play for his house team (as every house captain wanted Harry on their team the moment he was sorted). But because of the school rules about first years not allowed to have their own brooms, Harry was stuck using the school brooms, which were Nimbus 2000s donated by James.

This year Harry was allowed his own broom, James bought Harry his own Nimbus 2000.

"The marketer tried to make me order a Nimbus 2001, but I thought to get you a broom you're already use too," James said, "Besides it's the skills that makes a player, not the broom."

"Thanks dad," Harry said.

Later Tonks came to visit. "Wotcha Potters."

"Tonks!" Harry cheered.

"What brings you here?" James asked.

"I thought you should know Sirius got permission to look onto the House Elf Dobby and who was the owner," Tonks said. "Just to be sure this isn't a work of a dark wizard."

"Sounds good," James said. "But why didn't Padfoot come and say this himself?"

"New girl in the Ministry," Tonks said, "And you know my cousin, can't leave a new girl alone without flirting to her first."

James sighed. "Tonks why don't you come in and join us. We're about to have breakfast."

"Thanks James, but I promised my mum that I would come and visit for breakfast," Tonks said. "She's been complaining that she doesn't see her 'gift from the Nymphs' as much."

Tonks said that with distaste. Tonk's real name was Nymphadora which means what she just said. Because of it Tonks preferred to go by her surname, or if necessary, Dora.

"Anyways, I thought since the Potter Cottage was on my way, I tell you the news," Tonks said.

"I appreciate it," James said. "Tell your mum Harry and I said hi."

"Sure will," Tonks said. "Don't be afraid to drop by either."

At that moment Hedwig came in with Harry's letter and hooted.

"Finally," Harry said.

"I better leave that to you," Tonks said.

Harry opened the letter. As usual, it told Harry to catch the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross station on September first. There was also a list of new book Harry needed for the coming year.

SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:  
 _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ by Miranda Goshawk  
 _Break with a Banshee_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
 _Gadding with Ghouls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
 _Holidays with Hags_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
 _Travels with Trolls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
 _Voyage with Vampires_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
 _Wandering with Werewolves_ by Gilderoy Lockhart  
 _Year with the Yeti_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

Harry recognized the name of the Author of seven of the books as the author of some of his best friend Ron's mum's books. James checked over his son's list and grunted with disapproval. "Either you have Lockhart for Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, or one of his big fans."

"You know the writer?" Harry asked.

"He started Hogwarts when your mum, uncles, and I were in our fifth year," James said. "He was an upstart kid. Got himself in Ravenclaw House but he was cunning enough to be in Slytherin. Not to mention he had high expectations for himself when he was nothing out of the ordinary. Heck, he pulled ridiculous stunts to draw attention to himself."

"Oh, sure, like you and uncle Moony and Uncle Padfoot never did ridiculous stunts," Harry said sarcastically.

"I have you know we did it for the laugh. Lockhart did it because he wanted to get noticed," James stated. "Besides, you're not exactly the one to talk."

"Yeah, but at least what I did was to help other people," Harry said, "Hey dad, do they sell these books second-hand?"

"I'm not sure, but if they did, I doubt they would be cheap," James said. "Why?"

"Because if I have this list, Ron will too," Harry said. "And his sister is starting this year too."

James realized where Harry was getting at. "That would be quite a problem."

"Didn't you say we still have some of mum's old school stuff that she kept over the years in case you two have a daughter?" Harry asked, "If they're in still in good condition maybe we can give them to Ginny."

James looked at Harry surprised. He never thought Harry would recommend something like this, but he had to admit it was a good idea. James knew before she died, Lilly put a charm on her old trunk that keeps everything inside well preserved.

"Are you sure about this, Harry?" James asked.

"I'm certain," Harry said. "I doubt mum would want us to keep her old school supplies in the attic to gather dust anyways."

James smiled. "Okay. I'll contact Molly to let her know of the plan, and if Ginny is okay with it we'll give her your mum's old stuff. That will just leave Lockhart's books and her wand for Ginny to get."

"And we can see if the Weasleys can come with us shopping too," Harry said.

James chuckled. "I like the way you think, kiddo."

Harry grinned as he started chowing down on his birthday breakfast so he could try out his new Nimbus 2000.


	4. Gilderoy Lockhart Makes His Announcement

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **Gilderoy Lockhart Makes his Announcement**

Ginny didn't argue against getting Lilly's old school supplies, as it save her from walking around the Diagon Alley getting all of her stuff second-hand. Although she would have to be fitted into Lilly's old school cloak since Ginny is smaller than Lilly at eleven.

The next day, James and Harry flooed to the Weasley Burrow with Lilly's Trunk.

"Oh, James you didn't have to do all this, really?" Molly said as if she changed her mind.

"Hey, it's no problem," James said. "As Harry said: Lilly wouldn't want her old school supplies gathering dust in some attic."

Ginny opened the trunk and found everything she needed. Although she frowned as she picked up her Standard Book of Spells grade 1, which was in a plastic Ziploc bag.

"Hey, Mr. Potter, what's with this?" Ginny asked.

"Oh—ah, yeah, Lilly kept some of her stuff in Muggle pastic bags to keep them well preserved from erosion," James said.

"Better not show that to my husband," Molly said. "He might start collecting them to study."

James shrugged. "Well, Arthur does have a point. Muggles do seem to have come up with ways to do well without magic."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't excuse him from enchanting a car to fly," Molly stated. "Which, may I say, he got the idea off of yours and Sirius' flying Motorcycles."

"I haven't flown that in years!" James complained.

"But you and Sirius bragged about it so much Arthur decided to build his own flying vehicle," Molly argued.

"Is our mum and Harry's dad arguing about flying vehicles again?" Fred asked.

"Sounds like it," said George. "Hey Harry. Whose trunk is that in the kitchen?"

"Right now, it's mine, but it did belong to Harry's mum," Ginny said.

George picked up a cauldron. "Seriously? This looks no older than a year old."

"Dad said Mum like keeping her stuff in good condition," Harry said. "By the way, Ginny, are you going to try out for reserve Seeker and Chaser this year?"

"I hope too," Ginny said. "Especially since your dad donated Hogwarts new school brooms."

Ever since James donated the school twenty-eight Nimbus 2000s, it has opened up positions for first years to try out with proper brooms as long as they're granted permission by their head of house and Madam Hooch who teaches flying lessons.

Ever since Harry encourage the Weasley brothers to let their sister play Quidditch with them, they learned that their little sister has skills to be both a Chaser and Seeker.

"Well, if you end up in Gryffindor, we'll be sure to put in a good word to Oliver about you," Fred said.

"It might actually put Oliver's mind at ease to have a reserve Seeker incase Harry ended up unable to play again," George joked.

"Hey what about me?" Ron came down. "Would you make a recommendation for me if I want to join?"

"It depends, you think you can protect the goals in front of crowds?" Fred asked.

"Come on guys, Ron isn't that bad," Harry said.

"As a Keeper when we play alone, no. But with a crowd, yes," George said. "Besides, Oliver almost never misses a game. Only good Ron can do for the game is help us practice."

Ron slumped down in his seat. "Hey Harry. I see you got your dad to give Ginny your mum's old supplies

"Hey Ron," Harry greeted. "Yeah. Although, you wouldn't have known by the condition of the stuff."

"Which I am grateful for," Ginny said. "One thing I hate about hand-me downs are most of them are always in bad condition."

"Don't remind me," Ron responded. "I wish Charlie kept his wand in good condition before I ended up with it."

Harry didn't spoke up. Most of his stuff he got over the years were either brand new or hand made. Last year he suggested to his dad to get something second-hand when they were shopping for their school supplies to make his friend Ron feel better, but James turned down the suggestion since there were wizards and witches that either were from poor families or orphanages that need them more than Harry.

Percy didn't show up until Molly stopped blaming James for giving her husband the idea of a flying vehicle.

"Morning all," said Percy briskly, barely noticing the guest. "Lovely day."

He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him the Weasley family owl Erol.

Then Arthur Weasley came in after a long rest after over night raid. Arthur was this tall man with little hair left and wearing glasses. He greeted Harry and James like old pals.

"Harry, James, welcome," Arthur said. "Oh and you brought Lilly's old school supplies for Ginny. Thank you for that by the way. For some reason the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher recommended Lockhart's books for all year students."

"Seriously?" James asked. "Wouldn't it be easier just to have one for each year. I mean there's seven of them."

"Who knows," Arthur said.

"Dad told me that he was in his fifth year when Lockhart started Hogwarts," Harry said. "Needless to say, the Maurders did stunts for laugh. Lockhart did it for self-glory."

"Don't tell my mum that," Ron said. "She fancies him."

"Great since we're all up, we can floo to Diagon Alley," Molly said. "Augusta Neville Hermione and her parents will meet us there."

Everyone put on their coats and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.

"We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some more today… Ah well, guest first! James, you go first."

James took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames.

With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than James, who stepped right into it, shouting, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished.

"Harry, you're next," Molly said.

Harry took a pinch and threw in the fireplace. Then he stepped in, shouting "Diagon Alley!" Harry felt as if he was being sucked down a giant drain as he spins very fast until he reached his destination and landed into the Leaky Cauldron Pub.

"Nice landing Harry," James said.

Not to long later, Fred fell through, then George, then Arthur, then Ron, then Ginny, then Percy, and finally Molly.

"Now that we're here, we can meet the Grangers and Longbottoms at Gringotts," Arthur said.

"Arthur, when we meet the Grangers, don't bombard them with questions about the Muggle world," Molly warned.

"Don't worry about it, dear," Arthur said which basically meant he would only keep his word when his wife was around.

"Dad, is it ok to start worrying about any chance of leaving Hermione's Parents with Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked.

"Honestly, Harry, I don't know," James replied.

They reached a big white building known as Gringotts.

"Harry! Ron!"

Neville and Hermione ran up to the Weasley/Potter group. Hermione gave Harry and Ron both a friendly hug and Neville high five both of them.

"Hey Hermione!" Harry said. "Hey Neville!"

"Where's your parents and grans?" Ron asked.

"Over there!" Neville pointed to his gran who was dressed up in weird robes and a hat with a vulture on it talking to two adults who were obviously Muggles as they were wearing muggle clothing instead of robes.

"Mom, dad!" Hermione called. "This is Harry and Ron and their family!"

The Grangers and Augusta Longbottom came over so they could introduce themselves.

When James introduced himself, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were rather surprise.

"Oh, so you're the Astronomy Professor Hermione talks about," Mrs. Granger said. "The friendly yet if have to strict professor who uses stories to help his students learn."

"That's me," James responded.

"Hermione talks highly about you and your son," Mrs. Granger said. "And of course Ron and his family as well."

They looked to see that Arthur was already talking to Mr. Granger about Muggle money, but not pushing it as Molly was watching him and the twins at the same time.

"Is he always like that?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Arthur finds anything non-magical related interesting," James said.

"Well, since we're here, we might as well get our money," Augusta said. "And the Grangers need have to exchange their money too."

They went inside Gringotts. Molly James and Augusta went through the tunnel system as the kids stayed with the Grangers and Mr. Weasley—who stayed above ground to learn more about the Muggle profession of a dentist.

"So everyone got the same list of books for Defense Against the Dark Arts Class?" Neville asked.

Harry nodded. "Looks like it."

"The author must be famous in Defense Against the Dark Arts if he has written a series," Hermione said.

"Dad doesn't think so," Harry said. "This Gilderoy Lockhart guy joined Hogwarts when my dad, mum and uncles were in their fifth year."

"Was he a Gryffindor?" Neville asked

"Ravenclaw," Harry said.

"So he must know something about it," Hermione said. "After all, Ravenclaw House is known for wise wizards and witches."

"And Slytherin is known for the dark wizards and withes that was sorted there. That doesn't mean everyone sorted there uses dark magic," Harry said. "I'm telling you, the way my dad talked about the guy, Lockhart seem more like an attention seeker."

"Well, maybe Lockhart changed after your dad left Hogwarts." Hermione said.

"Perhaps," Harry responded.

Soon enough James Molly and Augusta showed up with bags of money.

"Ready kiddo?" James asked.

"Ready as I can be," Harry said.

Back outside on the marble steps, the group split off into smaller groups. Percy muttered vaguely about needing a new quill. Fred and George had spotted their friend from Hogwarts, Lee Jordan. Mrs. Weasley and Ginn were going to get Ginny her first wand. Augusta went to get supplies for a potion she was making. Mr. Weasley insisted on taking the Grangers to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. James joined Mr. Weasley and the Grangers on Mrs. Weasley's request to make sure Mr. Weasley didn't bother Hermione's parents too much with questions. Which just left Harry Hermione Ron and Neville on their own.

"We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy our schoolbooks," said Mrs. Weasley, setting off with Ginny. "And not one step down Knockturn Alley!" she shouted at the twins' retreating back.

Harry bought his friends ice cream as they wondered around Diagon Alley. Ron spend part of the time gazing longingly at a full set of Chudley Cannon robes in the windows of Quality Quidditch Supplies until Hermione pulled him away so they can get some ink and parchment. They found Ron's brothers once in a while, but they soon went their own way.

"Is it time to go to Flourish and Blotts?" Neville asked.

"Um—" Harry checked his watch that he got from his uncle Remus for his birthday. "Yeah, I guess we should."

They headed for Flourish and Blotts. The only problem was that when the approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

GILDEROY LOCKHART  
will be signing copies of his autobiography  
 _MAGICAL ME  
_ today 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.

"We can actually meet him in person!" Hermione squealed.

"Great, there's a large crowd in one shop," Harry said.

"Maybe no one would notice you," Neville said.

"I doubt that," Harry said as he tried his hardest to hide his lightning bolt scar with his bangs.

As cool as it might look to some, the scar is the one thing that always signal Harry out among other wizards and witches. Sometimes Harry can hide it by keeping his bangs over it, but in large packed together groups, there's always someone who catch sight of him.

Harry Neville Ron and Hermione squeezed inside. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ and sneaked up the line to where the rest of the Weasleys were standing with Hermione's parents, James, and Augusta.

"You all right there, Harry?" James asked his son.

"I hate being in crowds like this," Harry grumbled.

James smirked and ruffled Harry's hair, making sure not to uncover his son's scar. "Don't worry, I'll make sure no one gawks at you."

At that moment Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzling white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photos with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash (a magical trick hat help the camera take photos even in places muggle technology won't work).

"Out of the way," he snarled, stepping on Ron's foot and pushing Harry out of the way. "This is for the _Daily Prophet—_ "

"Big deal," said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it and James helped his son up.

Gilderoy Lockhart heard Ron and looked up. At first he saw Ron, but then his attention turned to Harry—who's bangs was brushed aside when the photographer pushed him down, revealing his scar. He stared for a few minutes before leaping to his feet shouting, "It _can't_ be Harry Potter?"

The crowd parted. Lockhart dived forward, about to grab Harry's arm, when James shot infront of his son and aimed his wand at Lockhart.

"Leave my son alone, Lockhart!" James growled.

"Now, Mr. Potter. Is this really necessary?" Lockhart asked. "I just want a photo with your son."

"So your personal photographer can put it on the front page to boost your own fame, I don't think so," James responded before speaking lowly so only Gilderoy could hear. "You may have these people fooled. But I can see through your charms. You're still the attention hungry fame seeking spoiled wizard you were back then. Just with a bigger ego. And there's no way I'm going to let someone like you ruined all the hard work I put into raising Harry to be the wizard Lilly would want him to be."

Lockhart cleared his throat. "Very well. Let's leave Harry Potter be with his friends and family, shall we."

Lockhart headed back to his table as everyone applause.

"Thanks dad," Harry said.

"No problem, kiddo," James said.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly, waving for quiet. "I have an announcement for those with children attending Hogwarts. Not only after today all students here would be buying my collection of books—half charge for those with children attending Hogwarts by the way—for the reason is I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd and cheered loudly.

"What could Dumbledore be thinking?" James gritted his teeth. "Moony could teach the class better than that prick."

Harry patted his dad on the back.

Harry got his books and joined Ginny in the far back to wait for Mrs. Weasley to get her book signed. Like Harry, Ginny also had her books.

"Your dad sure hates Professor Lockhart," Ginny said.

Harry nodded.

"Need your daddy to protect you, Potter?" said a familiar voice. Draco Malfoy showed up with his usual seer.

"The _famous_ Harry Potter," said Malfoy. "Always needing his daddy to look after him."

"Leave him alone," said Ginny glaring at Harry.

"Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend_!" drawled Malfoy.

At that moment Ron Hermione and Neville were wrestling their way through, clutching their stacks of Lockhart's books.

"Oh, it's you," said Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I bet Lockhart's half off sail saved your family two weeks of starvation. Or did your family have to work with the Potters for the money for those books."

Ron went as red as his hair. He dropped his books and started toward Malfoy. Fortunately, Neville and Hermione were able to hold him back.

"Ron!" said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well—Arthur Weasley."

A man who could only be Draco's father showed up. He had the same pale, pointed face and identical cold, gray eyes, and devious sneer. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

At that time James also showed up, probably send by Mrs. Weasley to prevent any problems.

"Lucius," James said.

"James Potter, I'm amazed to see you here too," Malfoy said. "Still hanging out with blood traitors I see."

"I rather be friends with the Weasleys than with Death Eaters who dodge getting arrested," James said.

Lucius looked over to Ginny's stack of books and picked up two of Lockharts books. "Must be for the best. From what I heard, Arthur wouldn't be able to afford anything good like these if you haven't convince him to request for overtime pay for the extra raids."

Arthur flushed darker than Ron. "My reasons for extra pay is none of your business, Malfoy."

"Oh, really," said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "If you as me, both of you sank your family name to its lowest."

Mr. Weasley couldn't take it anymore as he thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on their heads until James cast a spell that repelled the books around the,

"Get him, Dad!" Fred and George shrieked.

"No, Arthur, no!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked.

"Gentlemen, please—please!" cried the assistant.

"James, stop them!" Augusta yelled.

But before James could do something, a louder voice bellowed out over everyone else: "Break it up, there, gents, break it up—"

A huge hairy man was wading toward them through the sea of books.

"Hello Hagrid!" Harry greeted relieved to see his half-giant friend.

"Hello, Harry," Hagrid said as he pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy was holding one of his eyes that was hit by an _Encyclopedia of Toadstools_ that somehow hit him before James cast his spell. He was still holding both of Ginny's books but not for long as he thrust them back to her, his eyes glinting with malice.

"Here, girl—take your books—" Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.

"Thanks Hagrid," James said.

"No problem, James," Hagrid said. "Rotten to the core, the whole Malfoy family, everyone knows that."

"Makes me glad Andromeda and Padfoot are the black sheep of their family," James admitted.

"You and me both," Arthur agreed. "I rather befriended Padfoot's brother who turned against You-Know-Who than belittled by the Malfoys."

"Your uncle's brother was a death eater?" Hermione asked.

"A former death eater." Harry corrected. "From what I been told Regulus Black betrayed Voldemort and tried to find a way to kill him before he died."

Meanwhile Mrs. Weasley was yelling at her husband with fury. "A fine example to set for our children… _brawling_ in public… _what_ Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought—"

"He was pleased," said Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that guy from the _Daily Prophet_ if he'd be able to work the fight into his report—said it was all publicity —"

"More like an excuse to boost his fame," James grumbled, "I wouldn't be surprise the only reason he set up that half off deal was to make up for lack of pictures of him with Harry."

Augusta was trying to explain to the Grangers about the dark history of the Malfoys and why James and Arthur didn't get along with them.

In the end, everyone gathered at the Leak Cauldron to say good byes. James and Harry was heading back to their home instead of going back to the Weasley House.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Potter," Mr. Granger told James before they headed toward the exit that leads to the Muggle street on the other side.

"You too," James said. "I must admit, I'm surprise we didn't scare you guys away with Arthur's and Lucius' brawl back there."

Mr. Granger laughed. "Neville's Grandmother explained there was bad history between the Malfoys and the Weasleys and Potter families. Besides, just between you and me, I'm don't want to force Hermione to break the friendship she has. Before Hogwarts, Hermione had little friends and was often teased for being book smart and the fact she could do magic even before we knew she was a witch. In fact, my wife and I had hopes that by allowing Hermione go to Hogwarts, she would have a clean slate and make new friends."

James chuckled. "I can understand. Hogwarts is often a good place for witches and wizards born from a non-magical family to make friends with people who understands them."

Soon the Grangers were off and everyone floo to their own homes.


	5. Harry's Quick Thinking

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **Harry's Quick Thinking**

The end of the summer vacation came too quickly for Harry's liking. Like last year, Harry stayed with the Weasley Family at the end of summer vacation so James could spend time at Hogwarts preparing for another year. During the time Harry allowed the Weasleys to borrow his Nimbus 2000 to fly around whenever they go out to play Quidditch.

On their last evening, Mrs. Weasley conjured up a sumptuous dinner that included one of each of everyone's favorite food. Fred and George rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks they bought during their time with Lee Fletcher at Diagon Alley. Needless to say, they filled the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounced from the ceiling to wall for the next half an hour. Then they finished the night off with a mug of hot chocolate before bed.

The next morning, everyone got up at dawn, trying to get a lot of stuff done. Mrs. Weasley dashed about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills; people kept colliding on the stairs, half dressed with bits of toast in their hands; and Mr. Weasley—who manage to get that day off—nearly broke his neck tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard while getting everyone's trunks into his car.

The car was magically enchanted to carry eight people and two owls comfortably with four up front and four in the back. Which of course Mrs. Weasley wasn't aware of as she thought the muggles just made spacious cars. However, there was another enchantment Mr. Weasley did add to the car that Mrs. Weasley did know, and that was the ability to make the car fly.

Although it was illegal by the magical laws that Mr. Weasley added himself to fly enchanted flying vehicles without Ministry approval (which the car does not have), Mr. Weasley was able to keep it hush as they can use it—as long as the driver is driving on muggle roads. But that didn't stop Mr. Weasley to include other functions in hopes to one day fly the car without getting caught as he tried to convince Mrs. Weasley the moment they left the burrow.

"Molly, dear—"

" _No,_ Arthur—"

"No one would see—this little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed—that'd get us up in the air—then we fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any wiser—"

"I said _no_ , Arthur, not in broad daylight—"

They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr. Weasley dashed across the road to get trolleys for their trunks and they all hurried into the station to get to the barrier that divided platforms nine and ten that was also the entrance to the magically hidden platform nine and three-quarters.

"Percy first," said Mrs. Weasley, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which showed they had only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier.

Percy strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr. Weasley went next; Fred and George followed.

"I'll take Ginny and you two come right after us," Mrs. Weasley told Harry and Ron, grabbing Ginny's hand and setting off. In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

"Let's go together," Harry said.

"Good idea," said Ron.

Both of them bent low over the handles of their trolleys and walked purposely toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it they broke into a run and—

CRASH.

Both trolleys hit the barrier and bounced backward; Ron's trunk fell off with a loud thump, Harry was knocked off his feet, and Hedwig's cage bounced onto the shiny floor, and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly; people around them stared and a guard nearby yelled, "What in blazes do you think you're doing?"

"Lost control of the trolley," Harry gasped, clutching his ribs as he managed to get up and pick up Hedwig's cage. As he did Muggles around him were whispering about animal cruelity.

"Harry look," Ron whispered pointing at the clock.

Harry looked just as the clock turned eleven. They missed the Hogwarts express.

"It's gone," Harry said. "We're too late."

"What do we do? What if mum and dad can't get back to us?" Ron asked.

Harry looked at the people staring at them.

"Come on, I got an idea," Harry said.

…

They took their trolleys back to the Weasley Car.

"Okay, I bite, what's the idea?" Ron asked.

Harry opened his trunk and searched around until he found what he was looking for—an ordinary-looking mirror.

"I'm going to contact Uncle Padfoot," Harry said. "He can get word to your parents and my dad and inform them of our situation."

"Harry, that's brilliant," Ron said.

"Yeah, but we better get in the car so that the Muggles don't see us."

They stuffed their trunks in the trunk of the car and got in the back.

"Show me Uncle Padfoot," Harry told the Mirror.

There was a rippled from the mirror's magic. Soon they were seeing the inside of what looks like a cloak pocket.

"Uncle Padfoot!" Harry yelled. "Uncle Padfoot, it's me, Harry."

Sure enough it look like the screen was shuffling as it was pulled out in daylight and turned to face a young man with shaggy.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Sirius asked

Harry and Ron explained quickly of their situation.

"Okay, calm down," Sirius said. "I'll contact Ron's parents to let them know where you're at. Hopefully they're on their way to the car."

After Sirius hanged up. Harry and Ron waited what seemed forever until Sirius contacted them back.

"Okay, listen Harry, whatever prevented you and Ron from going through is keeping Ron's Parents from getting out of Platform nine and three quarters. So they're taking the Hogwarts express to Hogsmade and then Apariated back to the burrow."

"Great," Ron sighed.

"Good news is, I contacted your dad to let him know you missed the train. I also got approval for a portkey to Hogsmeade," Sirius said. "Tonks is on her way with the Portkey. Once you're gone, she's going to send your stuff to Hogwarts where James is waiting, and then drive the ford back to the Burrow."

"Thanks Uncle Padfoot," Harry said.

"No problem, Harry." Sirius said.

Fifteen minutes later, a woman with ginger brown hair dressed as a muggle appeared.

Despite her Muggle appearance and hair color, Harry recognized her immediately. "Tonks!"

"Wotcha Harry!" Tonks said. "I heard you and Ron got yourself in a bit of a predicament."

"You could say that," Ron said. "What's up with the ginger hair?"

"Well, I can't go walking around London with bubblegum pink hair, now can I?" Tonks asked. "Don't worry, as soon as we're done here, I'll be returning to my usual appearance. Now, come on. Let's reload your stuff so we can find us a deserted alley way."

Harry and Ron nodded.

Tonks carried Hedwig as Harry and Ron lugged their own trunks to a nearby alley way.

As soon as they were ready and Harry and Ron took out their wands so Harry could put in his holster and Ron put it in his back pocket, Tonks waved her wand at their stuff, and it disappeared in a _Pop_.

"Don't tell anyone this, but Dumbledore allows student's trunks and pets be appariated into Hogwarts grounds," Tonks said. "Most of the time it's done by the House Elves that worked at Hogwarts do it, but Dumbledore granted permission for me to do it for your stuff. Now, here you two go."

She took out two muggle wallets. "The moment you take these and I let go, you'll go straight to Hogsmeade train station. Hagrid will be there waiting for you with something to eat—from the village."

"Thanks, Tonks," Harry said.

Harry and Ron grabbed the wallets and when Tonks let go they were suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color.

Then as suddenly as they sent flying their feet slammed on the ground. Harry managed to regain his footing—but barely. Ron had it worse as he fell backwards and landed on his butt, which a loud _CRACK!_ As if a twig broke in half.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," Ron took out his wand that was in his back pocket—only now broken in half with only the unicorn hair keeping the pieces together. "My mum's going to kill me."

Harry patted his friend on the back.

"Ron! Harry!"

Hagrid came forward. "You two nearly gave us a heart attack. When Sirius contacted your dad to let him know what happened—what exactly did happen?"

Harry and Ron explained how they crashed into the barrier.

Hagrid winced as he handed them something to eat from the village. "That's rather unusual. The barrier is normally open even after eleven so parents could get out of the platform."

"So now what?" Harry asked. "Tonks and Uncle Padfoot wasn't clear what we should do once we're here."

"Well, first thing first, we take you two to Hogwarts," Hagrid said. "From there, either your father will let you two in so I can come back here to escort the First Years."

Hagrid took them through Hogsmeade and Harry couldn't help but look around. He been in Hogsmeade before when he was just visiting his dad (as there were no rules against visitors visiting their parents going to Hogsmeade). But Harry still couldn't help but look around.

Finally reached the gates of Hogwarts. However, instead of James waiting for them. Lockhart was there.

"Where's my dad?" Harry asked.

"He got caught up with last minute meeting, so they send me instead," Lockhart said.

"I doubt it was by choice," Harry said. "My dad wouldn't let you pick me up if it was."

"Oh come now, Harry. Your father just doesn't understand the fame life," Lockhart said.

"You don't know anything about James then." Hagrid muttered with a huff.

"Come on," Lockhart said. "The sooner you're ready the better."

…

Hermione and Neville were understandably worried when they saw the Weasley family but no Harry and Ron. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley was in their compartment when they got word of where Harry and Ron were at.

When they reached the station, the students and parents separated into four groups—the muggle families that needs to go back to King Cross, the magical parents that could appariated home, the first year students that takes the boats to Hogwarts, and the rest of the students who take the carriages to Hogwarts.

Hermione and Neville didn't see Harry and Ron until they were at the Great Hall—already sitting at the Gryffindor Table

"What happened to you two?" Hermione asked.

Harry and Ron told their story once again, only this time they included what happened after they couldn't get through.

"Lockhart let me go to get ready, but Harry—" Ron said.

"Lockhart took me to his office to give me advice on being famous," Harry said. "If Ron didn't go get my dad, I would think Lockhart would keep me there until after the feast."

"What did your dad do when he saw you with Lockhart?" Neville asked.

"Punched him in the nose," Harry said. "Then he threatened Lockhart that if he doesn't leave me alone he'll report him to Dumbledore for Teacher-student harassment. Lockhart tried to weasel his way out saying I came by choice. Like I would follow that guy to his office for fame advice."

At that moment the first years came into the hall—lined up behind Professor McGonagall. Ginny was between a mousy brown hair boy and a girl with dirty blonde hair.

They stopped in front of the Staff table as McGonagall placed a three-legged stool in front of them and set an old dirty wizard's hat that was the sorting hat. The hat sang a different song than last time, but the story behind it was the same: wear the hat and it will tell if you're brave enough to be in Gryffindor, or loyal enough to be in Hufflepuff, or wise enough to be in Ravenclaw, you're cunning enough to be in Slytherin.

After everyone clapped and cheered before Professor McGonagall started the sorting.

Harry and Ron waited for Ginny to be sorted, but that didn't stop them from applauding whenever a first year was sorted into Gryffindor, or greeting them to Gryffindor table—including the mousy-brown hair kid that was standing in front of Ginny: Collin Creevy.

When dirty blonde-hair girl name was called out: "Luna Lovegood." Harry and Neville couldn't help but blinked.

"She must be Xenophillus daughter," Harry said in realization as the girl was sorted into Ravenclaw House.

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"Publisher of the Quibber," Harry said. "It's a magazine full of conspiracies of the Magical world. Sometimes he is invited to gatherings by a fan of his whose hosting it. When he's not talking about the Quibber, he talks about his daughter, but this is the first time I seen her."

Finally, McGonagall called out "Weasley, Ginerva."

Ginny walked up to the stool, picked up the hat, sat down, and placed it on her head.

It didn't take longer than a minute before the hat called out: "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Weasley brothers along with Harry Neville and Hermione clapped the loudest and congratulate.

The rest of the night was like Harry's Neville's Ron's and Hermione's first night in the Great Hall. Dumbledore gave his usual weird phrase. Then they eat their meals until they can't eat anymore, then Dumbledore gave the real announcements of how the Forbidden Forest was forbidden, Quidditch trials will be open (now for first years with permission granted by Madam Hooch), no magic allowed in the corridors, and the Hogwarts Song.

The only difference was the greeting of Lockhart as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts. Most of the applaused came from the female students—including Hermione (who seemed to have forgot that Lockhart took Harry to his office without student's agreement). Funny thing was that Snape was no longer the only one glaring at Lockhart (as the Defense Against the Dark Arts class was Snape's dream position that he never seem to get), but James had an identical loathing look.

Another difference was that since Harry Hermione Neville and Ron were second years, they didn't need escorts to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione got the password from Percy: 'wattlebird' and they headed up.

Sadly, word had got around about the barrier closing off on Ron and Harry as they were greeted with an applause by every Gryffindor that was there. Apparently they were the first ones ever to use a Portkey to come to school.

It took them hours and a bit of help from Percy before Harry and Ron were allowed to go to bed.

Ron Harry and Neville headed up the stairs to the male dorms until they reached their old dormitory, which now had a sign that says SECOND YEARS.

They entered the familiar circular room, with its five four-posters hung with red velvet and its high narrowed windows. Harry's and Ron's trunks were at the foot of their bed along with Hedwig's empty cage. Harry guess his dad released Hedwig to join her friends in the school's owlery.

All three hit the sacks before their remaining roommates Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas came in.


	6. The Worse Professor Ever

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **The Worse Professor Ever**

The same night of the Sorting Ceremony, James was nursing a headache. What could Dumbledore be thinking of hiring Lockhart?

Oh, that's right. Dumbledore was plotting to make Gilderoy reveal himself as the fraud he was.

The moment James came to Hogwarts for the Teacher's preparations week, he went into Dumbledore's office demanding why he chose Lockhart to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. That's when Dumbledore let James in on the secret.

Apparently, James was right about Lockhart not changing his ways in more than one way.

All those adventures Lockhart wrote about in his books—it turned out Lockhart literally stole them from the wizards and witches that actually did them, and cleaned up his trails by using the memory charm to make them forget they have done that.

The only flaw behind Lockhart's plan was that two of those folks were friends of Dumbledore and Dumbledore knew they did those adventures before Lockhart did.

The only reason Dumbledore hired Lockhart was to hope to reveal the fraud Lockhart was. The only issue was to convince Lockhart to leave the life of fame and money. And that's where Harry unknowingly had a roll in it.

Apparently Dumbledore let it slipped that Harry was a student in Hogwarts to Lockhart. Without saying anything else, Lockhart got this crazy idea that Harry must be a fame seeker like him, and wanted to mentor Harry, when in reality he was just boosting his own fame.

Now James had to keep an eye on Lockhart to make sure he doesn't try to kidnap Harry to boost his own fame every minute by the minute.

Unfortunately, Snape noticed James new found loathing to Lockhart, and when he heard why, well, James wasn't surprise that Snape was Sneering about it.

"Who would of thought the day came where the infamous Maurder would keep his son from seeking even more fame." Snape one day said, knowing James was listening.

"Not all of us are like Lockhart who never change their colors, Snivelus," James snapped. "You of all people should know that."

That basically stopped Snapes sneering look for the rest of the day. But James knew Snape will use that against Harry in their first second year Potions Class of the year. But damage was done, and right now, Snape's grudge against him was the last thing on James' mind.

…

The next day, Harry went through dealing with the usual glances of the first years trying to get a good look at _the_ Harry Potter as they headed down to the Great Hall. Unfortunately, most first years didn't think of following Harry and his friends to the Great Hall, because if they did, they wouldn't be the last groups to make it there.

Harry Ron and Neville sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione, who had her cop of _Voyages with Vampires_ propped open against a milk jug. "Morning." She said without taking her eyes off the book.

"I send Hermes home with a letter to mum about getting you a new wand," Percy told Ron when he joined them.

"Thanks," Ron muttered.

"Relax, Ron. I doubt you're the first wizard to break his wand after traveling through Portkeys," Harry said.

Unfortunately, that was when Malfoy came by with one of his teasing of the day: "Hey Weasley! Is it true what I heard? You sat on your wand and broke it in half?"

Ron turned red as he tried to hide in his seat as everyone in Slytherin Table burst out laughing.

"Don't listen to Malfoy, Ron," Harry said. "I doubt he's any better in landing when it comes to Portkey travel."

"Yeah, but I bet I'm the only one who broke his wand in results of it," Ron muttered.

At that moment, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the all and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. One big, lumpy package bounced off Neville's head and landed in his plate.

Hedwig brought Harry two letters and a package. As Harry expected, the letter came from Moony and the second letter and package came from Andromeda. Harry didn't even have to guess that Sirius and Tonks told them about Ron's and his side trip but he read the letter anyway.

Then Harry got an idea and took out a parchment and his quill.

 _Tonks,_

 _Thanks again for helping us out at King Cross, but I need another favor. Could you send Ron his own wand holster? His wand broke when we landed in Hogsmeade because he fell backwards and sat on his wand. His parents are going to buy him a new wand, but if he had his own wand holster, we can prevent something like this from happening in the future._

 _Thanks_

 _Harry_

Harry attached it to Hedwig and told her where to send it.

"Get some rest at the Owlery before you do," Harry told his owl.

Hedwig nipped Harry's ear affectionately and flew off. Harry opened the package, knowing it was sweets. Harry was sharing it among his friends when Professor McGonagall was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out course schedules. Harry took his and saw that they had double Herbology with Hufflepuff first.

"All right, Herbology first," Neville said. "Let's get going."

Neville packed his stuff and headed off. Hermione closed her book and they followed him. It was no surprise Neville was the first of the group to head off to Herbology. Herbology was the one class Neville excelled at most.

They left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses where the magical plants were kept.

Harry didn't mind having Herbology with Hufflepuff. Many wizards and witches think lowly of loyal Hufflepuffs, as they were the house that didn't fit in with the other houses, but Harry knew Hufflepuff House has produced outstanding wizards in the past, including Tonks—who was the second one related to the Black Family that was sorted into a different house other than Slytherin (first being Sirius Black who was sorted into Gryffindor House).

As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Harry quickly ducked out of the crowd, trying hard not to be noticed, and use the moment to slip on his cloak of invisibility—a silvery fluid like cloak that turns anyone who wears it invisible. It been in the Potter family for generations—passing from father to son on the son's eleventh birthday—which he got from his dad for his eleventh birthday last year. Harry often keep it in his bag in case of emergencies, and as of this year, avoiding Lockhart.

Harry had nothing against Professor Sprout and didn't want to. She was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; with the usual large amount of earth on her clothes and fingernails. Harry trust Professor Sprout with his life to make sure Lockhart doesn't try anything that would keep a student from learning.

Speaking of Lockhart, he was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.

"Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming at the assembled students while also looking among the faces, trying to find a certain familiar face (Harry bet Lockhart was trying to look for him). "I was just giving Professor Sprout here some advice on ways to handle exotic plants since I had encountered a few."

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntle, not at all her usual cheerful self.

There was a sudden interest in the class. Last school year, they spend Herbology class in Green House One—where the less lethal plants resides. Greenhouse three however housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Even under the cloak, Harry caught whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella sized flowers dangling from the ceiling.

Harry stayed back as everyone headed in, not wanting Lockhart to catch sight of him. Eventually Lockhart did leave, a tad bit disappointed.

"You can come out of your cloak now Potter," Professor Sprout said once Lockhart was out of hearing range."

Harry wasn't surprise Professor Sprout knew he was invisible as he removed his cloak. "Thanks for not saying anything, Professor Sprout."

"No problem dear. I figured you were using your cloak when I saw your friends but not you. Not that I blame you. If I had a cloak of invisibility I would disappear the moment I saw Gilderoy too," Professor Sprout explained. "Now, come on. We got class to start."

Harry nodded and stuffed his clock in his bag before going in the greenhouse.

"Where were you?" Hermione asked when Harry joined his friends.

"I was using my cloak of invisibility to hide from Lockhart," Harry said.

"Nice," Neville said.

"Seriously? The way you acted he was out to kidnapped you," Hermione said.

"Hermione, he did," Ron said. "Remember? Harry and I told you about it last night?"

"Oh—" Hermione turned pink. "Sorry."

She didn't say anything else about it. Not that Harry blame her. It was obvious that Lockhart had the whole female-student population in Hogwarts under his thumb. All Lockhart had to do is put up his charms and they might forget why they were there in the first place.

Professor Sprout was now standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of earmuffs were lying on the bench.

"We'll be repotting Mandrakes today," she said. "Now, who can tell me the properties of Mandrake?"

To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was first into the air—even before Neville's.

"Ms. Granger."

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Profesor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

This time Neville beat Hermione to raising his hand.

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," Neville replied.

"Precisely. Take ten points, Mr. Longbottom," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward to get a better look. A hundred or so tufty plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. To the untrained eye, they look unremarkable, but Harry knew better than to question magical plants.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.

Everyone scrambled around trying to seize a pair of earmuffs that wasn't pink and fluffy.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are _completely_ covered," said Professor Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs up. Right—earmuffs _on_."

Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. Just as he expected he couldn't hear a thing through them. Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasp one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

What she pulled out was a small muddy, and extremely ugly baby. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, molted skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.

Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor sprouts dusted her hands, removed her ear muffs and gave them the thumbs up.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water begonia. "However, they _will_ knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up. Four to a tray—there is a large supply of pots here—compost in the sacks over there—and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching over her shoulder.

Naturally, Hermione Ron Harry and Neville joined together at their tray. Next to them was a group of Hufflepuffs, including a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Harry only recognized from the sorting ceremony from last year.

"Justin Finch-Fletchey," he introduced himself to the group brightly, shaking Harry by the hand. "I know who you four are—the second generation of Maurders: the famous Harry Potter, the wise Hermione Granger, the Wizard chess player: Ronald Wealsey, and the brave Neville Longbottom."

He shook each of their hands.

"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" said Justin at his table as they began filling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if I'd been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and—zap—just fantastic. My name was down for Eton, you know. I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family…"

Sadly Justin couldn't finish what he was saying as they had to put their earmuffs back on in order to repotted the Mandrakes. It wasn't easy to repot a Mandrake as Professor Sprout made it look like. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth and refuse to go back in it as well. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fist, and gnashed their teeth. Harry had a fun time just getting one into a pot.

By the end of the class everyone was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash before Hufflepuffs went their own way to their class as Gryffindors headed the other way to Transfiguration.

Of course Transfiguration was still one of the hardest topics in Hogwarts, and the first day back seem to be extra hard as most seemed to have forgotten what they learned last semester. Today's lesson they were supposed to turn a beetle into a button.

Harry managed to get it after a dozen tries, which was more than he can say about Ron. Since Ron had to wait until he get a new wand, he had to patched up his wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it definitely was damaged beyond repair. It kept cracking and sparking at odd moments, releasing gray smoke that smell rotten eggs every time he tried the spell. Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one, much to Professor McGonagall's displeasure.

Harry was relieved to hear the lunch bell. He was about to join everyone leaving the classroom when he noticed that Ron had stayed behind to whack his wand furiously on the desk.

"Stupid—useless—thing—" Ron continued whacking his wand. "I can't wait until I get a new wand."

They went down to lunch, where Ron's mood was not improved when Hermione showed off the handful of perfect coat buttons she had produced in Transfiguration.

"What've we got this afternoon?" Neville asked, trying to change the topic.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

"Why," demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, "have you outline all of Lockhart's lesson in little hearts?"

Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.

"I wonder if I can pretend being sick and skip the class," Harry muttered.

"Even if you do, you can't dodge it forever," Neville said. "Believe me, I would like nothing more than to do that everytime we have Potions."

Harry sighed.

They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in _Voyages with Vampires_ again. Harry didn't complained. No matter how many times they tell Hermione that Lockhart was a fraud, it didn't change the fact she reads so she doesn't have to worry about failing her exams. Although something told Harry that Hermione had already read all of Lockhart's books and was just reading them for the second—possibly third time.

Then Harry had a strong feeling that he was being closely watched and when he looked up, he saw the very small, mousy-hair boy that was sorted last night into Gryffindor House: Colin Creevey. He was staring at Harry while clutching an ordinary Muggle Camera—probably charmed to work on school grounds. The boy turned bright red.

"All right, Harry? I'm—I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think—would it be all right if—I can have a picture so I can prove I met you?" he raised his camera hopefully. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me."

Harry sighed as he heard this before. "You really shouldn't listen to what other people say about me, Colin."

"They told me about how you survived when You-Know Who tried to kill you—"

"Only because my mum cast a very powerful protection charm on me when she sacrificed herself," Harry stated.

"and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on our forehead."

"Can we please not talk about that?" Harry said.

"and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll _move_." Colin drew a great shuddering breath. "It's _amazing_ here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you"—he looked imploringl at Harry—"maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then could you sign it?"

Harry looked at Hermione, pleading for help. After all, if anyone could help Collin understand it would be Hermione (hopefully) since she was in Collin's position last year.

Hermione sighed and closed her book. "Collin, can I talk to you for a bit?"

"But I want a picture—"

"I'm sure Harry would allow you to get a picture of him at the Common Room tonight, but before you do, I think we should talk, muggle-born to muggle-born." Hermione looked at Harry as if saying 'You better keep my promise'.

Harry didn't complained since he now owed Hermione one as she took Collin to talk to him privately.

"Am I the only one who had a strange déjà vu moment there?" Ron asked.

Neville and Harry chuckled. Then Neville noticed someone coming. "Lockhart coming this way."

Harry swiftly took out his cloak and covered himself up turning invisible.

"Hey! I heard someone was signing photos," Gilderoy said coming up to them. "Let me guess, Harry trying to reach the lime light again. Where is my young protégé?"

"I think he headed to his dad's corridor," Ron said.

"Oh—" Gilderoy smile faltered for only a second. "Well, I guess I'll see him in class then."

Gilderoy left and once he was out of sight and hearing range, Harry removed his cloak.

"That was too close," Harry said.

"Good thing Professor Lockhart is scared of your dad," Ron said.

Hermione returned. "Well, I manage to talk some sense to Collin and cleared up what are rumors and what is the truth to him, but he still insist a photo with you after dinner tonight."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said. "I owe you one."

"Just let the kid have one photo with you and we can call it even," Hermione said. "Come on, we're going to be late for class."

Harry paled at the reminder. "Maybe I can attend the class invisible. That way I won't miss the class but Lockhart won't know I'm there."

"Harry, you're a Gryffindor, so start acting like it." Hermione huffed. "You can't keep using your cloak to avoid Professor Lockhart. Now come on."

…

James was heading to the Astronomy tower to prepare for tonight's course with some of the most advance students.

On the way James bumped into Ginny who seemed to be rushing off.

"Whoa, Ginny, where's the fire?" James asked.

"I can't talk Professor," Ginny said. "I'm late."

Ginny rushed off without saying anything else.

James was a little confused, but he shrugged it off. He often forget how hard it is to be a first year on the first week. There's always a first year running around trying to find their next class.

Still, the way Ginny looked—it was as if she was distracted by something else.

…

Lockhart was without a doubt the worse teacher ever. He started his class with a pop quiz on his books, which turned out only be about him that was mention in his books, that only Hermione got right.

Then he released freshly caught Cornish Pixies onto the class, and when his spell failed to stop them, Lockhart ran away, leaving Harry and his friends to deal with them—except for Neville, who was lifted in the air by Cornish Pixies and was dropped on the chandelier.

Fortunately, Cornish Pixies was something Harry and Hermione worked together to use a freezing spell and a full body bind curse on the pixies and got them into the cage. Then with a combine hovering charm they manage to get Neville down.

When Harry told his dad about it, James couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Dad! This isn't funny!" Harry complained. "It took us over an hour to get them back in their cages."

"Sorry, son." James replied. "At least Lockhart didn't try to talk to you after class."

"Only because he ran away from the classroom after failing to get them himself." Harry complained. "Dad, couldn't you talk to Dumbledore about getting him fired?"

"Um, yeah—about that—" James said. "Apparently Dumbledore had a good reason to hire Gilderoy that had nothing to do with his books."

"What? Then why did he hire him?"

"Calm down, Harry. I can't tell you right now, but trust me when I say Dumbledore has already agreed that if Lockhart harass you any further than he has done in his first day, he will fire Lockhart."

Harry pouted. "Can't I at least skip Defense Against the Dark Arts? I know plenty of it anyways from the lessons Moony gave me."

"Sorry, kiddo, but that's a no go either," James said.

"Whatever."


	7. A Voice That Only Harry Hears

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **A Voice That Only Harry Hears**

It seems Harry spend most of his time dodging Gilderoy Lockhart. It didn't help that Lockhart would show up at the beginning of every other class, giving the professors tips on the very topic they were teaching. The only class Lockhart don't visit is Astronomy, which he claimed was because it was at midnight and he ne his beauty sleep. It was no secret to Harry that the real reason is that his dad scared Lockhart away.

Ron was still waiting for his new wand, and it couldn't come any sooner. The wand he had was still malfunctioning, surpassing itself on Friday morning by shooting out of Ron's hand in Charms and hitting tiny old Professor Flitwick squarely between the eyes, creating a large, throbbing green boil where it had struck

Harry was looking forward to this weekend. He planned to spend the evening with Hagrid and spend the evening with his dad.

At least, that was the plan until he was shaken awake several hours earlier than he would have liked by Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Whassamatter?" said Harry groggily.

"Quidditch practice1' said Wood. "Come on!"

Harry squinted at the window. There was a thin mist hanging across the pink and gold sky.

"Oliver," Harry croaked. "It's the crack of dawn."

"Exactly," said Wood. He was a tall and burly sixth year and, at the moment, his eyes were gleaming with a crazed enthusiasm. "It's part of our new training program. Come on, grab your broom, and let's go… you do have a broom now, right?"

Harry nodded. "Nimbus 2000—got it for my birthday—"

"Perfect! Let's go," said Wood heartily. "None of the other teams have started training yet; we're going to be first off the mark this year—"

Harry groaned. The only good thing out of this is that Harry might be able to talk Oliver into letting Ginny into being the team's reserve Seeker/Chaser.

Yawning and shivering, slightly, Harry climbed out of bed and tried to find his Quidditch robes.

"Oliver, what if I tell you there's a first year Gryffindor this year whose a skilled flier and can make an excellent Chaser and Seeker if something happens to me or one of the Chasers before a big game?" Harry asked.

"Well, as long as they get approval by Madam Hooch, then I can see about arranging to let them participate in training to see if they have what it takes," Wood said. "You have someone in mind?"

Harry nodded. "Her name is Ginny Weasley."

"Fred and George's sister?"

Harry nodded as he explained about how Ginny use to play Quidditch with them. Oliver nodded as he listen carefully. "Well like I said. She'll have to get approval from Madam Hooch, and if she's as good as you say she is, I'll give her a chance. Now, if that's all, I'll meet you on the field in fifteen minutes."

Harry manage to find his scarlet team robes and pulled on his cloak for warmth. Harry scribbled a note for Ron and Neville, telling them where he'd gone, and went down the spiral staircase to the common room with his new Nimbus Two Thousand on his shoulder. He had just reached portrait hole when there was a clatter behind him and Colin Creevey came dashing down the spiral staircase, his camera swinging madly around his neck and something clutched in his hand.

"I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Harry, and I thought I show you this! I've finally got the potion just right to get this developed."

Harry looked and saw it was the picture he promised Hermione he'll let Colin take. Colin was waving next to Harry as he tried to do his homework he got while putting up a friendly —and sure enough they were moving in the photo.

"Great job, Colin," Harry said. "Keep that up and you might have a future in developing photography for the daily prophet."

"Thanks, Harry," Colin said. "Oh, and I'm sorry about Monday. I didn't realize how you felt about fans and about—you know—"

"It's okay," Harry said. "Listen Colin, I have Quidditch Practice."

"Oh, wow! Wait for me!"

Harry climbed out of the portrait hole with Collin following. "I've never watched a Quidditch game before! Can I come to take pictures?"

"You can come to watch, but I'll have to run it by my teammates and team captain about allowing you to take pictures," Harry said. "They might not be as comfortable about it."

"Oh, right!" Colin agreed. "Hey! I heard you were the youngest House plater in a hundred years, and that your dad bought the school new school booms so that more first years could participate."

"That's right, but you have to go through flying lessons first," Harry said, "Then you go through private lessons with Madam Hooch to see if you can have qualified to sign up. Once you do, then all is left is getting it run past the Head of House and try out."

"Is it true there are four balls? And two of them fly around trying to knock people off their brooms?"

"Yes," said Harry. "They're called Bludgers. There are two Beaters on each team who carry clubs to beat the Bludgers away from their side and to the other team. Fred and George Weasley are the Gryffindor Beaters."

"What are the other balls for?"

"Well, the Quaffle—that's the biggish red ball and the only one that doesn't fly around—is used to score goals. Three Chasers on each team throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through the goalposts at the end of the pitch—they're three long poles with hoops on the end that are also guarded by the sixth player of each team, known as the Keeper."

"And the fourth ball—"

"—is the Golden Snitch," said Harry, "and it's very small, very fast, and difficult to catch. But that's why each team has one Seeker—who is often the smallest yet fastest member of the team. The Seeker's job is the most important job too, because the game of Quidditch doesn't end until the Snitch is caught. Whichever team's Seeker gets the Snitch earns his team an extra hundred and fifty points, and as long as the other team doesn't already have over that many points lead, that catch can also win the game for the team whose Seeker catches it."

"And _you're_ the Gryffindor Seeker, aren't you?" said Colin in awe as they left the castle. "Is it true your dad—Professor Potter—use to play Seeker?"

This question Harry was proud to answer. "My dad actually was Gryffindor's main Chaser when he was in school, but there were a few games he played as Gryffindor's Reserve Seeker."

"Really? Cool!"

Colin didn't stop asking Harry questions until they reached the Quidditch field here Harry had to go to the changing rooms, forcing Colin to go toward the stands.

The rest of the Gryffindor team were already in the changing room. Wood was the only person who looked truly awake. Fred and George Weasley were sitting, puffy-eyed and tousled hair, next to one of Gryffindor Chasers Alicia Spinnet, who seemed to be nodding off against the wal behind.

Spinnet's fellow Chaser: Third Year Katie Bell manage to nod to Harry as he entered, although that might be just her nodding off since she and the third Chaser Angelina Johnson were yawning side by side.

Like Harry, Katie Bell joined the team last year, but more through the usual ways of trying out for the position. Despite this being her second year playing Quidditch, Katie was good enough Chaser to keep up with the more experience Alicia and Angelina.

"There you are, Harry, what kept you?" said Wood briskly, "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the field, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I really think will make all the differences…"

Wood was holding up a large diagram of a Quidditch field, on which were drawn many lines, arrows, and crosses in different-colored inks. He took out his wand and tapped the board, which caused the arrows to wiggle over the diagram like caterpillars. Wood started his big speech about his tactics, but hardly anyone listened. Fred Weasley's head even drooped right onto Alicia Spinnet's shoulder and he began to snore.

The first board took nearly twenty minutes to explain, and there were two more after that. By time Wood reached the last board, his voice just seemed to drone out in Harry's mind like one of Professor Binn's—who is the only ghost in Hogwarts that teaches—History of Magic classes.

"So," said Wood, at long last, jerking Harry from a wistful fantasy about what he could be eating for breakfast at this very moment at the castle. "Is that clear? Any questions?"

"Yeah!" said George. "Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?"

Wood wasn't pleased.

"Now, listen here, you lot," he said, glowering at them all, "We should have won the Quidditch Cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately—owing to circumstances beyond our control—we took a humiliating defeat and Ravenclaw House manage to take the lead in the House Cup."

Harry shifted around guiltily as he was the circumstances beyond their control. On the day of the final match against Ravenclaw House last semester, Harry was unconscious brought on by stopping Quirrell and Voldemort from getting the Sorcerer's Stone.

"So this year, we train harder than ever before… Okay, let's go and put our new theories into practice!" Wood shouted, seizing his broomstick and leading the way out of the locker rooms. Stiff-legged and still yawning, his team followed.

They had been in the locker room so long that the sun was up completely now, although remnants of mist hung over the grass in the stadium. As Harry walked onto the field Neville ran up to him waving something in his hands.

"Harry! Hey Harry! You forgot these!"

As Neville got closer, Harry noticed it was his prescription Quidditch Goggles. Last year, after Harry was allowed to join the team, Remus had send him prescription goggles that were enchanted to repel any precipitation so Harry could see while playing in any condition. Harry didn't even realize he forgot them.

"Thanks Neville," Harry took the goggles, took off his glasses, place them in his pocket, and put on his goggles.

"No problem. Good thing you guys haven't started playing yet," Neville said.

"Where's Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Up there!" Neville pointed up to the stands where Ron and Hermione were sitting, with toast and marmalade from the Great Hall.

"No fair, you guys got something to eat?" Harry asked.

"Yeah! Why? Didn't Wood let you eat?"

"Are you kidding me? He had the whole team come down here an hour ago!" Harry complained.

"Well—uh—oh, wait, here."

Neville took out a piece of toast. "You need this more than me."

"Thanks Neville," Harry said.

"Oi! Potter! Training time!" Wood yelled.

Neville hurried up the stands as Harry quickly ate his piece of toast. It didn't seem fair with the other players who had to skip breakfast, but Harry was too hungry to argue.

Once he was done, he mounted his broomstick and kicked off the ground, soaring up into the air. The cool morning air whipped his face, and with his stomach partially full with toast, Harry was now wide awake. He soared right around the stadium at full speed, racing Fred and George.

Harry flew on a Nimbus 2000 almost all year during his first year, but somehow flying on one that was actually his felt different. It felt more right.

He didn't even noticed the sound of someone taking a picture with a camera as they hurtled around the corner until Fred called out, "What's that funny clicking sound."

With Oliver's long speech about his new training regimen, Harry forgot about Colin until he looked down and saw the young wizard sitting in one of the highest seats. He must have thought it was okay for him to take pictures—that or he got tired of waiting—because he had his camera raised and was taking picture after picture. Each click of the camera was strangely magnified in the deserted stadium.

"Who's that?" said Fred.

"Colin Creevely, he's a Gryffindor in Ginny's year," Harry said.

"I don't like it," said Wood. "He could actually be a spy, trying to find out about our new training program."

"I doubt that since he's a muggle-born," Harry stated. "He just want photos to send home."

"Besides, the Slytherin team came here in person," said George, pointing.

Several people in green robes were walking onto the field, broomsticks in their hands.

"I don't believe it!" Wood hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"

Wood shot toward the ground, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. Harry, Fred, and George followed.

"Flint" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint was larger than Wood with a look of a trollish cunning on his face. He replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over, too. There were no girls on Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage, "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. _'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker."_

Harry wasn't surprise to hear that Slytherin got a new player. Their last Seeker Terrence Higgs, graduated last semester. He was an honestly well play player who never go against the rules, unlike most of his teammates. But now that Higgs was gone, Harry wondered who would be Higgs' replacement.

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

And from behind six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fie gold lettering spelling the words _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_ gleamed under the Gryffindor's noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrip those out of date Two Thousand series Professor Potter donated to the school. As for the old Cleansweeps"—he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives—"sweeps the board with them."

Most of the Gryffindor team couldn't think of a word to say at the moment.

"What's wrong Potter? Your daddy run low on money to buy you a decent broom?" Malfoy sneered.

"You're a fool if you think having a Nimbus Two Thousand and One gives you an advantage over the field against me, Malfoy," Harry said. "It's the skills that makes a player, not the broom."

"Oh really," Malfoy said. "I guess your blood traitor of a father would know something about skills."

"How about a challenge?" Harry asked. "Two hundred golfballs, one hundred each. Our top chasers will throw them Slytherin throws for me, Gryffindor throws for you. That way there be no favoritism."

Malfoy frowned. "Why would I waste my time with that?"

"What's wrong? Afraid your daddy's money won't help you beat me?" Harry asked.

"Fine!" Malfoy said.

"Oliver, you okay with this?" Harry asked. "It's your training session we're wasting."

Oliver glared at Flint. "Make Malfoy eat his words, Potter."

The two kicked off. Flint threw for Slytherin and Angelina threw for Gryffindor.

As expected Flint tried everything in his power to make Harry miss the golfballs, but Harry had the upper hand. He caught every golf ball thrown at him, even when Flint tried more than one at the time.

Malfoy was another story. Angelina played fair but Malfoy struggled to keep up with catching the golf balls.

When the last golfballs were thrown (Malfoy taking the longest), the score was Harry 100, Malfoy: 25 (barely).

In the end Oliver laughed as Malfoy turned pink. "Have the field today, Flint. Looks like you're going to need it to break in your new Seeker."

Harry headed to his friends after training.

"Harry, that was amazing!" Hermione said.

"We saw you cream Malfoy in catching those golfballs," Neville said.

"I still can't believe you manage to catch all of those golf balls with the way Flint tried to cheat," Ron said.

"It's like what my dad said," Harry said. "It's the skills that makes a Quidditch Player, not the broom. No matter if it's the skills you were born with or gain through hard work."

"Harry! Harry!" Colin yelled, "That was so awesome. I got photos of all of it. It was so cool."

"Thanks Colin," Harry said as he pushed by.

…

They visited Hagrid, who was delighted to hear how Harry creamed Malfoy in a simple competition.

That night Harry told his dad what happened.

"That's my son!" James ruffled Harry's hair.

"Yeah! I think I made Oliver's day creaming Malfoy in that competition," Harry said, "Especially since Malfoy had slight advantage due to Angelina not trying to cheat like Flint was trying to do with me."

James nodded. "By the way, have you talk to Wood about letting Ginny join the reserve team?"

"I have and he agreed to give her a chance if Madam Hooch lets her try out," Harry said. "I haven't seen her today though. In fact—I don't think I have seen much of Ginny since the sorting ceremony."

"Huh, that's strange," James responded.

At that moment Harry heard a strange voice that chilled him down to the bone marrow. A voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom.

 _"Come… come to me… Let me rip you… Let me tear you… Let me kill you…_

"What?" Harry said loudly.

"I was saying that it was strange that you haven't seen much of Ginny," James said. "From what I seen when I teach first year Astronomy, Ginny hasn't had made that many friends."

"Dad, didn't you hear that voice?" Harry asked.

"Voice? What voice?" James asked, "Harry are you okay?"

"I—I don't know," Harry said. "Maybe I'm just too tired and imagined it."

"Oh, okay." James said. "But if you hear voices again, do tell me Harry?"

"I will dad," Harry promised heading out the door. "Good night, dad."

"Good night, kiddo."

...

When Harry returned to the common room, Hermione Neville and Ron were doing their homework.

Hermione was the first to noticed something was wrong as she asked, "What's wrong Harry?"

Harry told them about the voice he heard in his dad's living quarters.

"And Professor Potter didn't hear it?" Neville asked.

"No."

"Harry, you don't think it has to do with—" Ron stopped to look around to make sure no one else heard. "You-Know-What that you got from You-Know-Who when his spell backfired off you."

"I don't know," Harry replied.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Hermione asked.

Harry almost forgot that Hermione still had no clue he could talk to snakes.

"I can talk to snakes," Harry said in a whisper. "Like the founder of Slytherin House."

Harry explained to Hermione about how he could speak to snakes and how his dad and Dumbledore think it had something to do with Voldemort's spell backfiring.

"So wait, when You-Know-Who failed to kill you due to your mother's protect you—" said Hermione.

"Some of his powers might have transferred to me," Harry said. "But I don't go telling everyone about it, because it's normally a sign of a dark wizard—which I'm not!"

Hermione nodded. "Your secret is good as safe with me."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said feeling relieved that Hermione trusted him enough to believe him. But still, Ron did had a good point. Could the voice Harry heard be connected to the powers he accidentally received from Voldemort?


	8. Nearly Headless Nick's Death Party

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **Nearly Headless Nick's Death Party**

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and castle. Along with the weather change came an outbreak of colds and flus among the staff and students. The school's nurse Madam Pomfrey, was busy making her Pepperup Potion. The potion helps out instantly, but it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire. But it came to be necessary.

Ginny passed Madam Hooch's requirements for try outs ad after one practice, was allowed to be reserve Seeker and Chaser. Ginny doesn't get any playing time unless Harry or one of the Chasers were out of a game before it started, but she can help with training. Which is a good thing because Oliver Wood insisted that they trained in any weather. One stormy Saturday afternoon, a few days before Halloween, Harry was returning to Gryffindor Tower, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud.

The reason mostly for the training in the rain was because Fred and George had been spying on the Slytherin to see how much Malfoy has improved. From what they reported Malfoy has slightly improved, but he still has the speed of the Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones one their side. So Harry been training to make sure he stay ahead of Malfoy. Oliver also had Harry teach the team some of the moves his uncle Padfoot taught him.

As Harry squelched along the deserted corridor he came across somebody who looked just as preoccupied as he was. Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, was staring morosely out of a window, muttering under his breath, "…don't fulfill their requirements… half an inch, if that…"

"Hello, Nick," said Harry.

"Hello, hello," said Nearly Headless Nick, starting and looking around. He wore a dashing, plumed hat on his long curly hair, and a tunic with a ruff, which concealed the fact that his neck was almost completely severed. He was pale as smoke, and Harry could see right through him to the dark sky and torrential rain outside.

"You look well, young Potter," said Nick, folding a transparent paper as he spoke and tucking it inside his doublet.

"Thank you," Harry said. "What troubles you?"

"Ah." Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant hand, "a matter of no importance… it's not as though I really wanted to join… Thought I'd apply, but apparently I don't fulfill requirements'—"

In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face.

"But you would think, wouldn't you," he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, "that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"

"Oh—yes." Harry realized this was about the Headless Hunt, where a bunch of ghost that had their heads chop off in their life take part in a bunch of activities—not just a hunt. It happens once a year, and every year since his death Nearly Headless Nick applied, and every year he been denied do to a technicality brought on by the half an inch of skin that kept his head attack to his neck.

"I mean, nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly, I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However—" Nearly Headless Nick shook his letter open and read furiously:

 _"'We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.'"_

Fuming, Nearly Headless Nick stuffed the letter away.

"Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on, Harry Most people would think that's good and beheaded, but oh, no, it's not enough for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore."

"Um right—" Harry said. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Actually there is," Nick said. "This Halloween is my five hundredth deathday—the anniversary of my death. I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the court. Now, I know Halloween isn't your favorite holidays, but you would be doing me a great honor and favor if you would attend. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, and Miss Granger would be most welcome too, of course."

"I don't know about my friends, but I'll see if I can come," Harry said. "Sorry to do this Nick, but I better get back to the Gryffindor Common room before Filch finds me dripping with mud."

"Ah, yes. It might be best that you do," Nick agreed. "Especially since Filch isn't in a good mood. He's got the flu and some third years accidentally plastered frog brains all over the ceiling in dungeon five. He's been cleaning all morning."

"More than enough reason for me to get out of here," Harry said.

"Thank you for agreeing Harry. You won't regret it," Nick said as Harry left.

However, Harry didn't get far before Argus Filch burst suddenly through a tapestry to Harry's right, wheezing and looking wildly about for a rule breaker. There was a thick tartan scarf bound around his head, and his nose was unusually purple.

Harry didn't even know how Filch found him until he heard a loud meow and turned to see Mrs. Norris had snuck up behind him.

"Filth!" Filch shouted, his jowls aquiver, his eyes popping alarmingly as he pointed at the muddy puddle that had dripped from Harry's QUidditch robes. "Mess and muck everywhere! I've had enough of it, I tell you! Follow me, Potter."

Harry expected Filch to take him to his office but instead, Filch dragged Harry to the Potter Living Quarters.

"Professor Potter, come out here and see what you son did!" Filch yelled.

There was a shuffling sound and James came out, looking a tad bit sick himself.

"Why are you yelling Filch? Can't you tell I'm trying to sleep?"

"Well, I thought you should know what your troublemaking son done!" Filch said. "He dirtied up the first floor with mud, he did. Knowing all too well I have to clean it."

"I didn't do it on purpose," Harry argued. "I was returning from Quidditch Practice."

"Likely story. No one in their right mind would practice in this weather," Filch said.

"Now, now Filch. Did you even check with Harry's Quidditch captain to see if it was true?" James asked.

"No, but—"

"So you're just jumping on conclusion on a student again," James sighed. "Argus, you do know not every student in this school are troublemakers?"

"Maybe so, but your son here is your child, and the apple doesn't fall far from the rotten tree," Filch said.

"Filch, I suggest you go find Wood, and confirm Harry's story, or I'll report you to Dumbledore for wrongfully accusing a student, _again_."

Filch paled as he left the area.

"Thanks dad," Harry said.

"No problem, now if you excuse me. I got this darn flu to fight off." James said. "And unless you want it too, I suggest you go back to your common room Harry."

Harry nodded and left.

…

"So your dad saved you from getting detention," Hermione said.

"Barely," Harry said. "Filch tried to use my dad's history as an excuse for punishing me though."

"Sounds typical," Ron said.

"That's not all—" Harry told them about his invitation to Nick's death party.

"A death party?" said Hermione keenly. "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those—it'll be fascinating."

"It's not, trust me. This isn't the first time Nick invited me." Harry said. "I was thinking before we go, I drop by the Hogwarts Kitchen and pick us up something to eat."

"Why?" Neville asked. "Won't they have food there?"

"They do, but it'll be rotten," Harry said. "After all, ghost can't eat."

"Good idea," Ron said.

Rain was still lashing at the windows, which were now inky black, but inside all looked bright and cheerful. The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs where people sat reading, talking, doing homework or, in the case of Fred and George Weasley, tring to find out what would happen if you fed a Filibuster firework to a salamander. Fred had "rescued" the brilliant orange, fire dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smoldering gently on a table surrounded by a knot of curious people.

Then, the salamander suddenly whizzed in the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly round the room. The sight of Percy bellowing himself hoarse at Fred and George, the spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the salamander's mouth and its escape ito the fire, with accompanying explosion.

"Harry, you did tell your dad where we're going, right?" Hermione asked.

"I couldn't. He was sick just like Filch when Filch took me to him," Harry said. "But I'll tell him tomorrow. Besides it's not until Halloween night and it's not the first Death Party. And we only have to stay there until Nick's speech. After that, Nick will let us go."

…

Harry did tell James and James approved. He even gave Harry permission to go to the kitchens.

By time Halloween arrived, most students were looking forward to the feast. The Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid grew gigantic pumpkins that was carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.

Neville and Ron wanted to back out of the Death Party for the feast, but Hermione wouldn't let them.

Other than the expected Death Party, it wasn't wasn't much different from how Halloween started last year for Harry. Harry spend the morning with his dad, so they can remind each other that the two of them are still alive. Then Harry went to class as no classes are canceled on Halloween.

At six o'clock—an hour before the death party, Harry headed down to the kitchens. He had to enter through a portrait of a bowl of fruits where he had to tickle a pair for it to enter.

"Master Harry Potter!" Squeaked a House Elf wearing clothes that bares both the Hogwarts crest and the Potter Family crest—representing it's duty to both Hogwarts and before that the Potter Family

"Hey Bunny," Harry said. "Listen, my friends and I are attending a Death Party and we need sandwiches for four."

"Sure thing, Master Harry. Anything for the son of my master who sent Bunny and her friends to Hogwarts for their own safety from You-Know-Who," Bunny said. "Bunny will get right to it."

Soon Bunny came back with a box full of eight roasted ham sandwiches.

"Thank you, Bunny. And I'm sorry for not visiting you last year," Harry apologized. "I'll try to visit you more often."

"It's okay," Bunny said. "Us House elves heard what you did for the school and Bunny understand that Master Harry been busy."

"Thank you," Harry said.

…

After Harry left the kitchens, he met up with his friends so they can eat and by seven o'clock they walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, and directed their steps instead toward the dungeons.

The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles, too, though the effect was far from cheerful: These were long, thin, jet-black tapers, all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own living faces. The temperature dropped with every step they took. As they got closer they heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard.

"Is that music?" Ron whispered.

"Music of the dead," Harry said. "Not as pleasant as Music of the Living."

"You could say that again," Neville said.

They turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway, hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," he said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome… so pleased you could come…"

"Sure thing, Nick." Harry said. "So same thing as last time?"

"Last time—oh yes, that's right. That's correct. You and your friends can leave after speech," Nick said. "Now, please—come in and enjoy."

Nick swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside.

It was incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight-blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer.

"Let's walk around," Harry said.

"Just make sure you don't walk through anyone," said Ron nervously.

"If we stay toward the edge of the dance floor we should be fine," Harry said. "During ghost-related sociable events like this, they normally stay in the dance floor."

"I have to say, it feels weird being involved in a sociable event," Neville said.

"Especially one hosted by ghost," Ron agreed.

They set off around the edge of the dance floor. They passed a group of gloomy nuns, and ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Harry wasn't surprised to see that the Bloody Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver blood stains (but not his own blood), was giving a wide berth by the other ghost.

Then Harry noticed a squat ghost of a girl gliding through the edge of the dance floor, with the glumiest and thick pearly spectacles.

"Hey, there's Myrtle," Harry said.

"Oh, no, no, no." Hermione stopped abruptly. "I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle—"

"Oh, come on, Hermione. Myrtle isn't that bad." Harry said.

"You know that ghost?" Neville asked.

Yeah. She's the ghost that haunts one of the toilets the girl's bathroom on the first floor," said Hermione. "It's been out of order all year because she keep having tantrums and flooding the place."

"You can't really blame her. In her life, Myrtle didn't have any friends and was often teased for it. Then there was a mysterious incident where she died in the first floor bathroom," Harry said, "Besides, she doesn't always stay in the first floor bathroom. She sometimes hang out in other places

"How do you know this?" Ron asked.

"You don't get to hang out with some of these ghost without learning a thing or two about their history." Harry shrugged. "Plus, I had a few run ins with Myrtle when I use to visit my dad here at school."

"Hey guys, look! There's food!" said Neville pointing at the other side of the dungeon where there was a long table, also covered in black velvet.

"Don't try," Harry warned. "Trust me, those foods are beyond edible."

"Then why they have it?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "Ghost like to imagine smelling them as they fazed through food. There are ghosts who miss eating."

Just then, a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in midair before them.

"Hello, Peeves," said Harry cautiously as he backed up a bit.

Unlike the ghosts around them, Peeves the Poltergeist was the very reverse of pale and transparent. He was wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bow tie, and a broad grin on his wide wicked face. He was also Harry's least favorite being.

Ever since Harry started visiting his dad when he was four, Peeves did everything in his powers to pranked Harry every time they see each other. Apparently Peeves thought that since Harry was the second generation Maurder, Harry would have a sense of humor as one. But in reality, Fred and George Weasley are more like the Maurders when it comes to pranks, but that didn't stop Peeves from pulling rugs under Harry, or pelting him with chalk, or dropping walking sticks on him.

"Nibbles?" he said sweetly, offering them a bowl of peanut covered in fungus.

"No thanks," said Hermione.

"Heard you were talking about poor Myrtle," said Peeves, his eyes dancing. " _Rude_ you was about poor Myrtle." He took a deep breath and bellowed, "OI! MYRTLE!"

"Oh, no, Peeves, don't tell her what I said, she'll be really upset," Hermione whispered frantically. "I didn't mean it. I don't mind—"

"Hello Myrtle," Harry greeted politely. "Nice to see you again."

"Oh, hello Harry," Myrtle said. "Nearly Headless Nick invited you here again?"

Harry shrugged. "What can I say? It's hard to say no to the ghost who been denied to join the Headless Hunt. Besides, it's a nice reminder that my dad and I aren't the only people who has something to mourn for on Halloween. By the way, these are my friends: Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Hermione Granger."

"Oh, I know of Hermione Granger," Myrtle looked at Hermione. "I'm guesing you're the reason Peeves called me over. Saying mean things about me."

"What—no. I didn't—"

"No need to lie about it," Myrtle sniffed. "I know what people call me behind my back? Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle."

"You've forgotten pimply," Peeves hissed in her ear.

"Peeves!" Harry growled.

Tears started flooding down Myrtle's face. "Harry has been the only person in my life and after life to ever treat me different. But everyone else is the same!"

Myrtle flew off.

"Well, that's a job well done," Peeves said. "But before I forget—"

He dropped the bowl of moldy peanuts over Harry's head.

"Happy Halloween!" Peeves flew off.

"I hate that Poltergeist," Harry muttered. "I take Myrtle's Tantrums over Peeves pranks any day."

Nearly Headless Nick now drifted toward them through the crowd.

"Enjoying yourselves?"

"Yes," Ron Neville and Hermione lied as Harry brushed off the moldy peanuts off him.

"Oh my—I take it Peeves got you again, Harry?" Nick asked.

"I had worse," Harry responded.

"Yes well, personally I wouldn't have invited Peeves, but the Friar insisted to let Peeves take part in some social gathering," said Nick. "Other than that, not a bad turn out. The Wailing Willow came all the way up from Kent. And Myrtle came when she heard you were invited Harry. I think she may have a crush on you."

"Probably because Harry is the only person nice to her," Hermione muttered.

"It's nearly time for m speech." Nick said as if he didn't hear what Hermione said. "I'd better go and warn the orchestra…"

The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn was sounded.

"Oh, here we go," said Nick bitterly.

Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly clapped wildly.

The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd—causing a lot of laughs—and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.

"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.

"Welcome, Patrick," said Nick stiffly.

"Live 'uns!" said Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter).

"Very amusing," said Nearly Headless Nick darkly.

"Don't mind Nick!" shouted Sir Patrick's head from the floor. "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say—look at the fellow—"

"Nick is as scary as any of you headless horsemen!" Harry argued.

Sir Patrick looked at Harry curiously. "Have we met before? You look familiar.

"I'm Harry Potter. Nick invited me to his 497th death party," Harry said.

"Oh, yes. Now I remember you know," Sir Patrick said. "If I remember correctly, this is the anniversary of your mother's death."

Before Harry could respond, Nick spoke out loudly. "If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" Nearly Headless Nick strode toward the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight.

"My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow…"

But nobody heard much more. Sir Patrick and the rest of the Headless Hunt had just started a game of Head Hockey and the crowd was turning to watch. Harry tried to listen to Nick, to be polite, but it came to be obvious that Nick wasn't going to be able to finish his speech when Sir Patrick's head went sailing past him to loud cheers.

"I think we can go now," Harry said when Nick got off the podium.

"Finally!" Ron said. "If we get back to the great hall in time, we might be able to get some pudding."

The four of them left the dungeon and headed back up to the entrance hall.

That's when Harry heard it.

 _"…rip… tear… kill…"_

It was the same voice, the same cold voice, murderous voice he heard in his dad's living quarters.

Harry stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all his might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

"Harry—"

Harry waved to his friend to quiet down so he could hear.

 _"…kill… time to kill…"_

The voice was growing fainter.

"It's the voice again, isn't it?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, and it sounds like it's on the move," said Harry. "Come on!"

Harry began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. At this point the sound of babbling from the Halloween feast was echoing out, making it impossible to hear the voice, but Harry made out something like: _"…I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!"_

Harry ran up the flight of stairs until they reached the second floor and found something gruesome.

Hanging over a large puddle of water by her tail hooked to a torch bracket was Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring, as if she saw something that frightened her to this state.

Above Mrs. Norris, a foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

"We need to get my dad," Harry said. "We need to tell him about—"

Before he could finish, a rumble of hundreds of footsteps coming from the Grand hall as students came crashing into the passage from both ends.

The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as people in front spotted the hanging cat. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet: "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It was Draco Malfoy as he pushed his way through the crowd with a broad grin on his face.

Normally hearing the word: Mudblood, boils Harry's blood. It was a term most Slytherins called witches and wizards born from a muggle family—or Muggle borns—calling them dirty blood. It's a foul name to call a muggle born.

Right now, however, Harry was trying to figure out what happened to Mrs. Norris, and who or what did it.


	9. There They Go Again

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **There They Go Again**

Harry hates Halloween. Not only it's a reminder that his mum's death that saved his life from Voldemort's spell whe he was just over a year old, but it seems trouble starts on Halloween. Last year, for example, their previous Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher: Professor Quirrell, released a troll into the castle in order to distract everyone so he can find a way pass Hagrid's three headed dog.

Now, it seems Harry is caught in yet another situation. This time involving Filch's cat that was found frozen and hanging under a message in the wall.

"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.

And his popping eyes fell on Harry.

 _"You!"_ he screeched. _"You_ murdered my cat! You've killed her!"

"What? No!" Harry responded, "We found her this way and were about to tell my dad—"

But it was no good as Filch continued screeching, "I'll kill you! I'll—"

 _"Argus!"_

James pushed his way through to his son and friend's aid. "You better think what you're going to say next before I report you to Dumbledore for threatening my son's life!"

"You can't defend your son this time, Professor," Filch said. "He was caught in the act—"

"Now, now Argus," another voice said as Dumbledore had arrived on the scene. He was followed by a number of other teachers. Dumbledore swept between James and Filch, pass Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione, and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus, James," he said to Filch and James. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, and Miss Granger."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster—just upstairs—please feel free—"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

For once, James didn't argue against Lockhart's attempt as he was to focus on Argus, who was still glaring at Harry accusingly.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore so did Professor McGonagall and Snape.

As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls as pictures of Lockharts were dodging out of sight as their hair were done in rollers. The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. James stood next to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville as they sank into the chairs outside the pool of candlelight watching.

The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris' fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her—probably the Transmogrifian Torture—I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would saved her…"

"Lockhart, will you shut up!" James snapped for the first time since Argus tried to accuse Harry.

Harry could see why James turn his attention away from Filch. The caretaker was racking with sobs as he was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Even though Filch never been one of Harry's favorite people, Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

At the same time, Harry found himself glad that he told his dad about his friends and him attending Nearly Headless Nick's death party, because right now it looks like it'll be the only thing that would clear Filch's accusation.

Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand, but nothing happened.

"…I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou," said Lockhart, "a series of attacks, the full story's in m autobiography, I was—"

 _"Silencio!"_ James waved his wand and Lockhart found himself unable to speak.

"Thank you James," Dumbledore said as he at last straightened up. "Good news is that she's not dead, Argus."

Lockhart stopped trying to talk as he looked shock.

"Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all—all stiff and frozen?"

"She's petrified," said Dumbledore (as Lockhart tried to act out what he was saying). "But how, I cannot say…"

"Ask _him_!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry.

"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced—"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what he wrote on the wall!"

James snapped out of his sympathy as he stepped in front of Harry. "Harry did no such thing!"

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch. "He always hated Mrs. Norris, and he been nothing but trouble!"

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows. "Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"

"They were at Nearly Headless Nick's Death Party," James said. "Harry told me Nick invited him personally the other day. I even gave him teacher's permission to visit some of our old house elves at the kitchen so he could grab him and his friends something to eat before attending. After all, not even the best of wizards could survive eating the rotten food the ghost serves during their death parties. They were probably just heading back to the Gryffindor Common Room."

"Well, since Mr. Potter has an alibi, I don't see any reason to punish him or his friend," Dumbledore said firmly.

Filch didn't approved. "My cat has been Petrified I want to see some _punishment_!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

Lockhart started trying to speak up, but his voice barely came out as a whisper. Obviously James' spell was wearing off, but not enough where everyone could hear.

"I'll make the potion," said Snape, "I am, after all, the Potions master."

There was a very awkward pause.

"You may go," Dumbledore told Harry Ron Neville and Hermione.

They left the classroom, closing the door behind them.

"We should have told Professor Potter," Neville said. "I mean, if it is related to—you know—he knows about it and might be able to help."

"Professor Potter knows of it?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "Dad was the first person I told. He even made me feel better about it by saying just because I can talk to snakes doesn't mean I'll become a dark wizard."

"Well, you weren't sorted into Slytherin House," Neville said. "That's a good start. I mean, everyone with that power in the past was sorted into Slytherin House."

"Only because according to the Sorting Hat, I can fit in any of the four houses." Harry said. "If it wasn't for the fact I wanted to be Gryffidor House—well, who knows which house I would have been sorted into."

"What about the message on the wall," Neville said. " _The Chamber Has Been Opened…_ what was that about?"

Naturally Ron and Neville turned to Hermione and Harry, which makes sense. Hermione read the History of Hogwarts, and Harry had been visiting Hogwarts longer than he been a student, and know some Hogwarts secrets others don't.

"Sorry guys, but this chamber must be a secret I have yet to discover because I have no idea what it is," Harry said.

"Same here," Hermione said. "If I came across it in my readings I would know."

A clock chimed somewhere.

"Midnight," said Harry. "Let's go to bed. I rather not be down here when Snape comes along."

…

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. When he wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for silly stuff.

Ginny seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris' fate. According to Ron, she was a great cat lover.

Whenever Ron tried to tell her what Mrs. Norris really was like, it just made Ginny feel worse.

Only sigh of relief that seem to come was when Erol brought Ron's new wand: fourteen-inch willow with unicorn hair. Amazingly enough, Ron's new wand works better for him than his old wand. The only problem was that Ron never threw out his old wand, and there were times when he was in a hurry, he would accidentally grab his broken wand and wouldn't realize it until it was too late.

The attack had impacted Hermione as well, as she spends most of their free time reading. They haven't seen Hermione this obsessed since they were looking for info on Nicholas Flamel last year.

Finally, Wednesday came and Harry had been held back in potions to scrape off tubeworms off the desk for another unfair punishment. After he was done, he had a hurried lunch before going to the library to meet up with Ron and Neville at the Library.

On the way up the stairs, Harry saw Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff boy from Herbology, coming toward him. But before Harry could say hello, Justin turned abruptly, and sped off in the opposite direction.

Fortunately Harry ran into someone else who knew something: Hufflepuff's Quidditch team Seeker: Cedric Diggory. A fifth year student. Pinned to his shirt was a prefect badge like Percy's except yellow and black (the colors of Hufflepuff. Harry guess Cedric was made Prefect this year.

"Hey Harry," Cedric greeted.

"Hey Cedric," Harry said. "I just saw Justin Finch-Fletchey and he ran away from me."

Cedric seemed off guard at first, but he said, "It's probably nothing."

"You know something, do you?" Harry asked.

"It's nothing," Cedric said.

"Please Cedric. If something involving me is going on, I need to know," Harry said.

Cedric sighed. "Look, there's a rumor going around that you petrified Mrs. Norris."

"What? No! I didn't—"

"I know you didn't," Cedric said. "I knew you since Tonks invited you to sit at Hufflepuff table during my first year at Hogwarts. And I know you don't have a dark bone in your body. But Harry—you have to admit, you didn't look not guilty that night."

Harry didn't look to happy to hear that. "So what? They think I'm out for all muggle borns? My mum was a muggle born! One of my best friends is a muggle born!"

"I know this," Cedric said. "Look, I'll try my best to talk some sense to Justin and the others, but I can't promise anything. Hopefully this will pass."

"Thanks Cedric," Harry said.

Harry passed Cedric, but he didn't get very far before running into someone else.

"Strange is it?" Harry heard someone say as he pass another floor.

Harry turned to see the dirty blonde Ravenclaw girl from the sorting ceremony as she continued what she said, "That muggle borns see you as a threat to them when it should have been obvious your first target would have been your muggle born friend instead of the cat that everyone detests."

"You're Xenophillus' daughter," Harry said. "Luna Lovegood. You're in Ginny's year."

"That's right," Luna said. "Although most call me Loony Lovegood."

"Well, if you get to know the ghost from the first floor bathroom Myrtle, you know I don't like using nicknames like that," Harry said. "What did you mean earlier?"

"Well, I would of thought it been obvious that you couldn't have attacked the Cat," Luna said. "Not when you could have attacked the girl Ginny says you and her brother befriended. Or your friend with the round face who I heard was almost pass off as a Squib."

"Hermione and Neville?" Harry asked. "I wouldn't attack them even if my life depended on it."

The girl let in a little smile. "Then I guess you can't be the heir."

Harry frowned. "Do you know something about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Maybe… my dad did published an article about it," Luna said.

Harry's eyes widened at the thoughtLook, I got to get to my friends before History of Magic."

Luna didn't say anything else but she nodded as Harry left.

…

Harry found Ron and Neville at the back of the library, measuring their History of Magic homework on 'The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards'. Professor Binns had asked for a three-foot-long composition on it.

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short," said Ron furiously. "What about you Neville?"

"Ten inches," Neville said. "Barely."

"This is impossible!" Ron said.

"Guys, where's Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Somewhere over there," said Ron, pointing along the shelves.

"She's looking for a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ ," Neville explained.

Harry frowned. "Doesn't Hermione have a copy of that book?"

"I do." Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves and sitting down. "But I had to leave it home to make room in my trunk for _all_ of Lockhart's books."

"We're looking at the wrong place." Harry told them about his conversation with Luna.

"Are you sure about this?" Ron asked. "I find it weird Luna would know a secret of Hogwarts you don't."

"Maybe, but the Quibber is our best shot."

Harry headed to madam Pomprey and asked to see if there were copies of the Quibber. Fortunately there were some and they were forced to go through them.

"No. Nothing," Ron said.

"At this rate, we'll be late for History of Magic," Hermione said.

"Wait! I found something!" Harry said. "The Chamber of Secrets: A Myth or Fact."

Harry opened the page.

 _Everyone knows the story of the Founders of Hogwarts who founded the four houses over a thousand ears ago: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. How they started the school to each young wizards and the rift between Slytherin's beliefs and the beliefs of the other three about who to teach, that led to Slytherin leeving the school._

 _But what most thought was a myth was actually true. That when Salazar Slytherin left the school, he created a Chamber that was secret to others that kept his most powerful and dangerous monster that he sealed._

 _Rumor has it that only the true heir of Slytherin would be able to open the chamber the monster would be released to kill all of those magical born from a none-magical family, or non-magicals bornfrom a magical family._

 _And for nine hundred and fifty years the story became a legend—a myth. Until an unfortunate girl died fifty years ago._

 _Hogwarts headmaster at the time tried to cover it up, but thanks to sources of those who were in Hogwarts fifty years ago, we believed the girl's death was caused by the heir of Slytherin, who may or may not attack again._

"It stops there," Harry said.

"Seriously?" Ron asked. "It answers nothing."

"Actually it answers plenty," Hermione said. "Harry, do you think you can pull some strings with Luna to owl us a copy of this?"

"I'm not sure, but I can try," Harry said.

"Great! You can do it after History of Magic class!" Hermione said as she got ready to leave.

Ron and Neville groaned as their homework was still too short.

…

History of Magic turned out to be another dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289. Some Gryffindors and even Ravenclaws that had History of Magic with Gryffindors tried to push on the subject on the Chamber of Secrets, but Professor Bin insisted to stick to actual history instead of something that was considered myths and legends.

"I don't see why Professor Binns has to be stuck up on the subject," Ron said, "He could have at least told them how the legend started."

"From what I understand, Professor Binns never been the type to go into details about myths and legends, even in his lifetime," Harry said.

"Peeves might know something," Hermione said, "If I remember correctly from _Hogwarts: The History_ , Peeves came to be when the castle was built."

"I'm not going to ask Peeves," Harry stated.

"What about Malfoy?" Ron asked. "He could know something about it. I wouldn't be surprise he's the heir of Slytherin."

"Maybe on his father's side," Harry said. "I doubt on his mother's side."

"Why is that?" Hermione asked.

"Because Malfoy's mum is my uncle Padfoot's cousin and Tonk's mum is Malfoy's mum's sister," Harry said. "If the Black Family were descendants of Salazar Slytherin, they would know since majority of the Black Family tree is proud of their pure-blood ancestry."

As they shunted along the throng, Colin Creevy went past, who seemed extra excited about something.

"Harry—harry—a bot in my class has been saying you're—"

"Colin, I'm going to say this once. I'm not the heir of Slytherin, nor do I have any involvement to what happened to Mrs. Norris," Harry said. "My mum was a Muggle-born witch, and the Potter family been in Gryffindor House for Generations. There is no possible way I'm the Heir of Slytherin."

"Well, that's reassuring," Colin said. "I told the boy it couldn't be true, as you were nice to me, but he wouldn't believe me."

Just then a tide of people push by, pushing Colin away from Harry toward the Great Hall.

"The more I hear that rumor, the more I hate it," Harry said.

"It's just a rumor, Harry," Hermione said. "Hopefully it will pass."

They turned a corner and found they were at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. They stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat hanging from the torch bracket, and an empty chair stood against the wall bearing the message "The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened."

Despite how many times Filch tried to scrub it off, the message still looked as fresh as it was Halloween night.

"Uh, guys," said Hermione. "Look at this."

Hermione was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack. A long silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" said Hermione wonderingly.

"Uh, Hermione," Neville said as Ron looked like he was about to run.

"Hey Ron, don't worry," Harry patted Ron on the shoulder, "They won't bother you."

"What's wrong with Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Ron's terrified of live spiders," Harry said, "Ever since Fred transfigured his teddy bear into a spider out of anger because Ron broke his toy broom."

"We got back on Fred by hiding a dungbomb in his and George's room," Neville said, "But ever since then, he can't be around live spiders."

"Oh it sounded dreadful!" a voice said.

They jumped as they turned to see Myrtle poking her head through a door.

"Myrtle," Harry said.

"Hello, Harry. I thought I heard you." Myrtle said with a giggle.

"Uh, right…" Harry said before thinking of something. "Hey, Myrtle, did you return to your toilet after we talked to you during Nearly Headless Nick's Death Party."

"That's right. I had enough of Peeves bullying and Hermione's mean words so I came out here to cry," Myrtle said.

"That explains where the water came from," Hermione muttered.

"Did you see what happened to Mrs. Norris?" Harry asked.

"I heard things, but I thought it was Peeves trying to make fun of me, so I stayed in," Myrtle said.

"Well, um, thanks," Harry said. "if you see anything that might be related to what happened to Mrs. Norris, tell us."

"Sure thing, Harry." Myrtle giggled.

Hermione looked shock.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Neville asked.

"This is the first time I didn't hear Myrtle moan and cry," Hermione said.

Harry shrugged. "She rarely does when we talk. I think it's because I'm the first human to befriend her."

"That, or Nick is right and she has a crush on you," Ron said. "Come on, let's get back to the common room before Filch catch us here."

…

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville chose seats in the far corner of the common room that night, doing their homework while talking about what they should do.

"Malfoy must know something," Ron said.

"Even if he does, it's not like he's going to tell us anything," Harry said.

"Well, there might be a way," said Hermione cautiously. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect—"

"Care to explain it to us before Christmas," said Ron irritably.

"All right," said Hermione coldly. "What we'd need to do is get inside Slytherin common room using the Polyjuice Potion."

"What is that?" said Ron and Neville asked.

"Didn't Snape mention something about it?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, a few weeks ago," Hermione said. "It transform you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into four Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him. But we have to make it quick as it wears off after a while. But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_ and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the Library."

"But we need a sign note from a teacher to get a book from there," Neville said.

"If we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance…" said Hermione.

"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Ron. "They'd have to be really thick…"

"We probably can fool Lockhart," Harry said. "Especially if we get him in his good days."

That's when Ron Neville Hermione turned to Harry.

"What?" Harry asked

"Harry, you might be able to convince Lockhart," Hermione said. "Famous person to Famous person."

That's when it clicked in Harry mind what Hermione meant. "No! No way! I'll never do that!"

* * *

 **A/N:** I know using the Quibber seemed to be an odd approached, but since the Quibber seemed to publish articles on the fact-or-fiction stuff in the Harry Potter series I decided to use it and get Luna introduced as a full character.


	10. A Bludger Gone Rogue

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **A Bludger Gone Rogue**

Despite his protest, Harry was forced to go with his friends plans.

Ever since the first day disaster in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits. He usually tried to pick Harry to help him with these reconstructions, but Hermione normally save him saying that since she memorized the books she know what exactly to do—which normally win Lockhart over.

But now that Harry Hermione Ron and Neville need to convince Lockhart, Harry reluctantly on the next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to be the werewolf from Wandering with Werewolves—which was actually the one book he had hoped that Lockhart didn't reenact that day.

Harry never wanted to read books like Wandering with Werewolves that are biased on all werewolves, nor did he like anyone acting like all werewolves are the same—no matter if they're in human form or werewolf form, they're all evil as Lockhart would say. So when Lockhart made the announcement of what book they were reenacting, Harry glared at Hermione as if to say: _You owe me big time for this._

Harry had to strain himself from hexing Lockhart every time he said that all werewolves were one of the foulest, most-evil creatures on the planet.

"Nice loud howl, Harry," said Lockhart during their reenactment.

Harry gave out his best werewolf howl.

"Exactly—and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced—like this— _slammed_ him to the floor—thus—with one hand, I manage to hold him down—with my other, I put my wand to his throat—I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm—he let out a piteous moan—go on, Harry—"

Harry did, but Lockhart wasn't satiflied.

"Higher than that—"

Harry did a higher moan.

"Good—the fur vanished—the fangs shrank—and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective—and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

Harry wasn't very impressed by it at least, and questions why are they reenacting the scene of the book when Lockhart should be teaching the spells he used. Harry knew the Homorphus was a real charm. Some of his early memories were of his Uncle Moony telling James that he should have Harry learn the charm when he's old enough and trained enough as a wizard in case something went wrong during a night of a full moon.

Still, this did give Harry idea of how to convince Lockhart. The memory also gave Harry an idea where his friends can brew the Polyjuice Potion.

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet.

"Homework—compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of _Magical Me_ to the author of the best one!"

The class began to leave, but Harry stayed back. Thanks to the reenactment, Harry got an idea of how to convince Lockhart to sign the form

Once everyone left, Harry walked up to Lockhart's desk.

"Professor Lockhart," Harry said.

"Harry, my boy. How may I help you?" Lockhart asked.

"Well, I was curious about that Homorphus charm. Does it really work on werewolves?" Harry asked. "Does it really temporarily turn them back?"

"Looking into stopping werewolves in the future?" Lockhart asked.

 _No,_ Harry thought but he answered, "You could say that."

"Well, Harry it's a difficult spell," Lockhart said, "Not many wizards and witches could do it, but if you want, I can teach you it…"

"Well actually, I think it's best for my dad's sake, I look it up myself," Harry said. "But before I do, I thought I study up more on how the transformation works so it be easier to use the spell, but the book I need is in the restricted section. And I need a teacher to sign it."

"Ah," said Lockhart, taking the note from Harry and smiling wildely at him. "Very wise approach. I don't think anyone would have thought of studying the transformation before learning the spell. Very well, for a future werewolf hunter."

Lochart took out an enormous peacock quill and signed it. "Here you go. A signature I normally save for book signings."

Harry took the form, trying hard to hide his look of disbelief.

"By the way, Harry," said Lockhart. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players…"

Harry clutched his fist, which Lockhart didn't noticed. He was the best Seeker in over a century. Even his dad had admitted that Harry was better than him at his age. And yet Lockhart was acting like he was better than him.

"I'll think about it—" Harry muttered as he left.

…

"Did you get it?" Hermione asked.

Harry held out the note. Hermione tried to take it, but Harry held it away from her.

"Nice try, Hermione, but I'm making sure this makes it to the library," Harry said.

"Oh come on, Harry," Hermione said. "I'm not going to steal it."

"How did you manage get it anyway?" Neville asked.

Harry explained how he fooled Lockhart into signing.

"How stupid can he get?" Ron asked.

"He's not stupid," Hermione snapped.

"Hermione, even you have to admit it's weird that Lockhart fell for that," Ron said. "Especially since Harry won't actually learn that charm."

"Who said I won't," Harry said. "It's not a spell that kills werewolves."

"But it does force them back to human form," Hermione said. "Which is just as painful as the transformation into a werewolf."

"Look, I don't plan to use it on any werewolf I know, but it wouldn't hurt to have one for those that really does pose a threat," Harry said.

They dropped their voices as they entered the library, but before they could someone said: "Oh, hello Harry."

Harry turned to see Luna at a table. "Hey Luna."

"Are you still looking for information on the Chamber of Secrets?"

"No! No," Harry said. "We actually found out a lot thanks to the info you gave me about the Quibber. In fact—"

Harry handed the note to Ron who got the message.

"Come on guys, we got a book to get," Ron said as he Hermione and Neville headed up to Madam Prince.

"My friends and I were wondering if your dad published any other theories on the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked.

"Not really," Luna said. "After it was published, Professor Dumbledore asked my dad not to publish anymore articles."

"Can your dad at least send four copies of that article for my friends and me," Harry admitted.

"I can see what I can do," Lnna said.

"Thanks anyways, Luna."

Harry walked up to his friends who just left Madam Prince. "Did you get it?"

"Yep," Neville said.

"Although Hermione tried to keep the note," Ron said.

"I did not!" Hermione responded. "Any luck on the Quibber?"

"There was no more on the Chamber of Secrets after the first one," Harry said. "But Luna agreed to see if she can ask her dad to send us copies of the article."

"That's great and all, but where do we go to study it?" Ron asked. "Because I'm not going to Myrtle's bathroom."

"We can't do make it in Professor Potter's living quarters either," Neville said.

"I think I got an idea of a place," Harry said. "Come on."

Harry lead them out of the castle to a giant tree. At first it seems to move with the wind, but when a bird landed on the branch the tree literally whacked it away.

"Harry, do you know what that is?" Hermione asked, "That's the Whomping Willow."

"Relax, ok?" Harry responded. He walked as close as he can to one of the roots. Harry took out his wand and send a spark into the root. When he did the tree became perfectly still.

"How?" Hermione asked.

"A trick my dad taught me," Harry said. "Come on."

Harry led them through the roots until he found what he was looking for—a secret hatch. Harry opened it into a tunnel.

Harry led them through the tunnel into some stairs. They climbed up until they reached a small room.

"Harry is this—is it the Shrieking Shack?" Hermione asked.

"Yep." Harry said. "I figured this was the most secretive place we can find at Hogwarts—at least until one more secret of Hogwarts I have yet to discover pops up. Dad also showed me a tunnel outside near the Whomping Willow to Hogwarts faster than it would take to cross the grounds. And since even the ghost and a certain poltergeist are too scared of this place, we won't have to worry about someone spying on us."

"Harry! You're a genius," Hermione responded. "Wait, what about the stories of this place?"

"I wouldn't worry about it," Harry said. "The stories of the Shrieking shack were created to scare people away. There's nothing down here that would hurt us."

"What about your dad?" Neville asked. "If he knew of this place, he could find us here."

"Dad hasn't been down here since he showed me the place. And even then it was the first time he been down here since he graduated from Hogwarts," Harry explained. "So let's get a look at that book."

They sat down on the floor and Hermione took out a large moldy-looking book. She opened _Moste Potente Potions_ carefully. The four of them bent over the damp-spotted pages. It was clear from a glance why it belonged in the Restricted Section. Some of the potions had effects almost too gruesome to think about, and there were some very unpleasant illustrations, which included a man who seemed to have been turned inside out and a witch sprouting several extra pair of arms out of her head.

"Here it is," said Hermione excitedly as she found the page headed _The Polyjuice Potion_. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. Harry sincerely hoped the artist had imagined the looks of intense pain on their faces.

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," said Hermione as they scanned the recipe. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass—that we can get in the student store-cupboard, we can help ourselves. But some of this stuff: powdered horn of a bicorn—don't know where we're going to get that—shredded skin of a boomslang—that'll be tricky too—and of course a bit of whoever we want to change into?"

"A bit of whoever we're changing into?" Neville asked.

"I hope they don't mean toenails," Ron said. "There's no way I'm drinking anything with Crabbe's toenail."

Hermione continued as though she hadn't heard him.

"We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last…"

"Hermione, there must be another way," Harry said. "Shredded skin of a boomslang—that's probably in Snape's private stores. We would _have_ to steal from Snape."

"You don't think I know this," Hermione said. "But this is the only way."

"How long will it take to make this potion?" Neville asked.

"Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days… I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients."

"A month?" said Ron. "Half of the Muggle-borns could be attacked by then!"

"It doesn't matter," Harry said. "This is our best plan."

…

James was grading his student's works, which never was easy. But that wasn't what was bothering James. During staff meeting, Lockhart bragged about some reenactment he showed with Harry being the werewolf. Then when no one else was listening, Lockhart told him about Harry's interest in the Homorphus Charm.

James wasn't surprise Harry was interested in the charm that reverse werewolf transformation. After Voldemort was gone and Remus was allowed more visiting time with Harry, Remus been egging James to learn the charm in case something happens where Remus tries to attack Harry in werewolf form—some of which Harry had eavesdropped in listening. Back then, Harry was too young to learn the spell, so of course it was easy to push aside the idea. But now, James find it weird that Harry turned to Lockhart about it.

James knew Harry well enough to know Harry wouldn't go to someone like Lockhart about a complicated charm.

 _No,_ James thought, _Harry must have had a different reason to go to Gilderoy, and was using the Homorphus Charm as a cover up. But a cover-up for what?_

…

Harry woke early on Saturday morning, but stayed in bed thinking about the upcoming Quidditch Match. It wasn't just your average match of Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. This was a match that can show the whole school that it's not the broom that makes the Quidditch Player, it's the skills.

Harry may have a talent in flying since he was a year old, but he was able to harness that talent with his dad's and uncle Padfoot's training, playing Quidditch with the Weasleys in their backyard, and of course the training he went through here at Hogwarts.

 _Something money and a few months of training can't get you,_ Harry thought.

After a half-an-hour Harry got up, got dressed—grabbing his Quidditch Goggles while at it, and left the dormitory and common room for an early breakfast.

When he got to the Great Hall, he found he wasn't the only one who decided to have an early breakfast, as the whole Gryffindor team was huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron Hermione and Neville came hurrying over to wish Harry good luck as he entered the locker rooms. The team pulled on their scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we have better players. Harry proved during our first practice that it's not the broom that makes the player, but the skills. And now we have the chance to show it to the rest of the school." Wood said. "We're going to make Slytherin House rue the day the let that little slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team."

As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hissed heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three… two… one…"

Fifteen brooms soared upward in the air as Madam Hooch three the Quaffle in the air, starting the game.

Naturally, Harry stayed above the game, watching the area like a hawk, looking for the snitch.

"All right there, Scarhead?" yelled Malfoy zooming past Harry as if showing off.

Harry shook his head. It was one thing for Malfoy to annoy him inside Hogwarts and on Hogwarts grounds, but on the Quidditch field, Harry just thought of Malfoy as just another dark-hearted Slytherin out to make him loose his cool.

At that moment, Harry saw something in the corner of his eye pelting right at him.

Harry took a deep dive and narrowly dodge a black heavy bludger.

"Nice dive, Harry," said George, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. Harr saw George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight at Harry again.

Harry pulled off another dive and dodge the bludger. George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy, only for it to swerve like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head—which again Harry dodge with a dive.

"Need help!" Fred yelled as he came to help George to whack the Bludger away from Harry.

"Thanks Fred," Harry said. "But you better go help the team. George, you can stay to guard me."

"Are you sure?" George asked.

"Yeah. With only one Bludger after me, it wouldn't be right to keep both of you away from helping the others win this game," Harry said.

Fred and George nodded as Fred zoomed away.

At that moment, it started to rain—which made Harry glad that his goggles was magically enchanted to repel water as he dodge the Bludger as George hit it away.

Oliver must have saw something was wrong because he called a time out, which Madam Hooch gave with a blow of her whistle. Harry and George dived for the ground, avoiding the Bludger.

"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled under an Umbrella. "Why are we suddenly playing with one Beater?"

"Sorry, Oliver. It's partly my fault," Harry admitted. "Someone tampered a bludger to go after me."

"Fred and I tried to help, but Harry would only let me to assist," George explained.

"But who could have done it?" Wood asked. "The Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and nothing was wrong with them then."

"Well, someone did," Harry said. "I got an idea on how we can use the Bludger to make sure Slytherin House doesn't get the snitch, but I only need one beater."

Harry discuss the plan to them.

"That could work," Oliver said. "But it's risky."

"It's that or forfeit," Harry responded.

"Fine! We'll go with your plan, Harry," Oliver said.

And with that the time out ended and they took to the air—only with George guarding Harry.

"Are you sure about this?" George asked.

"Just try to keep the Bludger away until I see the Snitch," Harry said.

The rain was falling heavily now, but Harry's goggles repelled it, which allowed him to see the Bludger coming at him every time George whacked it away while at the same time letting him scan the field between each dodge for the Snitch.

"What's wrong Potter? Can't handle a Bludger?" Malfoy taunt as Harry spiral dodge a Bludger.

That's when Harry saw it— _the Golden Snitch_ , hovering inches above Malfoy's left ear. And with Malfoy too busy laughing at Harry to notice it, Harry saw his opportunity.

Then Harry went into a dive behind Malfoy more to the right. Malfoy saw this and mistaken it for Harry going after the Snitch as he chased after him.

George stopped and as the Bludger turned to streak after Harry, George whacked it with all his might.

Harry saw it and slowed a bit which allowed Malfoy to gain a slight lead. Then Harry twist is body causing his broom to do a three-sixty turn as the Bludger missed his feet and hit Malfoy in the back of the head—sending him to the ground.

At the same time, Harry shot back up at top speed to a golden flash that was right under George's feet and caught it before doing another twist to dodge George.

"I got it!" Harry yelled, waving his hand showing the golden snitch. "Madam Hooch I got the Snitch!"

Madam Hooch blew the whistle, ending the game. However the rogue Bludger wasn't done with Harry as it pelted at him.

Madam Hooch noticed it as she took out her wand and waved it. The Bludger instantly exploded over Harry's head—nearly knocking him out of his broom.

Lee Fletcher ended the game one-hundred and fifty to ninety with Gryffindor victors as Harry landed on the ground safely.

Oliver landed and patted harry on the shoulder. "Your plan worked."

"Only because Malfoy was too busy laughing to noticed the Snitch," Harry said. "If he had just looked up to his left we would have lost the game."

"Luckily he didn't," Oliver said.

…

There was a huge celebration at the Gryffindor Common Room as George regale Harry's plan to the room.

Harry stayed back. Partly because Colin Creevy been begging for a new photo, but mostly because he was still shaken up of the fact that a Bludger was set on him. Now that the game was over, Harry couldn't help but think why the Bludger was after him. Harry often touched his forehead where his scar was, wondering if it was another one of Voldemort's doings.

Last year anytime Harry was near Voldemort his scar hurt. However, there were times during the year where Harry's scar didn't hurt. Such as during his first game ever, Quirrell, who was acting as Voldemort's vessel—manage to curse his broom to try and knock him off it during a game. His scar didn't bother him then.

Harry tried to go to sleep early, but he only woke hours later to a dream where the Bludger that was pelting after him had the face of Voldemort.

Unable to go back to sleep, Harry headed down to the common room and flop down on a chair. Before Harry could relax though a sudden _CRACK_ sound similar to a car backfiring caused Harry to jump.

He looked to his right and saw a goggling tennis ball eyes peering in the darkness.

"Whose there?" Harry demanded as he pulled out his wand.

"Harry Potter came back to school," said the voice miserably. "Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter."

"Dobby?" Harry asked lowering his wand. "What are you doing here? How on earth did you get here?"

Dobby came out of the darkness—wearing the same clothes he did the day Harry saw him at the Potter cottage.

"Dobby appariated, sir. Dobby had to since Harry Potter didn't head Dobby's warning."

"Appariated—oh right—" Harry remembered Tonks mentioning about how House Elves were allowed to appariated in Hogwarts. But Harry thought that only the Hogwarts House-Elves could do it. He never imagines other House Elves being able too.

"Why didn't you heed Dobby's warning?" Dobby asked. "Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he missed the train?"

"How did you know I miss the train?" Harry asked.

Dobby's lip trembled and Harry was seized by a sudden suspicion.

"It was _you_!" he said slowly. _"You_ stopped the barrier from letting us through!"

"Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping. "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward"—he showed Harry ten long fingers—"but Dobby didn't are, sir, for he thought Harry Potter was safe, and _never_ did Dobby dream that Harry Potter would all in favors from the Ministry to get a ride to Hogwarts. Dobby was shock when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts. He burned master's dinner in the shock. Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir…"

Dobby slumped into a chair.

"My dad was worried sick! Ron broke his wand when we landed!" Harry said through grinding teeth. "Not to mention you caused the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts a lot of trouble with getting the parents of Muggle Born students home because they couldn't appariated!"

"Dobby only did what Dobby had too to keep Harry Potter safe. Otherwise Harry Potter could of found another way home. Not did Dobby think that Harry Potter could get a ride from the Ministry through Portkey."

Harry decide not to bring up his uncle/godfather Padfoot incase Dobby decide something that involving him in the future.

"Harry Potter _must_ go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make—"

 _"Your_ Bludger?" said Harry as he shot up and grabbed Dobby by his pillowcase clothes and raised the House elf to eye level. "That was your Bludger? You realized you could have killed me?"

"Not to kill you, sir, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here, sir!"

"Dobby. You do realize if you have succeed, they would take me to the hospital wing, which is where Malfoy is instead because of your bludger," Harry stated. "And even if Madam Pomfrey failed to help me, I would go to a wizarding hospital for treatment and will be back in at least a week. The most you would have done is having Aurors tracking you down for endangering a student's life!"

Dobby's lip quivered, which Harry guessed was because he didn't think that far.

"I was only trying to scare Harry Potter home!" Dobby said. "If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves from families like mine were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that sir. But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the dark days would never end, sir. And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more—"

That's when Dobby froze with horror struck. Dobby started slapping himself. "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby…"

"So it's true!" Harry said. "The incident fifty years ago—it had to do with the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. And now it is happening again! But I'm not a Muggle born or Squib! So unless Half-Bloods are included in the enemy of Slytherin, you better tell me how I'm in any danger!"

"I can't! It's too dangerous!"

"What about my friends?" Harry asked. "One of my friends is a Muggle-Born Witch! If what you say is true, her life would be in just amount of danger as you keep claiming mine is!"

"No! I can't! Please, ask no more of poor Dobby! Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen—go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, 'tis too dangerous—"

"I'm not going anywhere!" said Harry. "I'm not going to risk the lives of the Muggle Born Wizards and Witches in this school for my own safety."

"Harry risks his own life for his friends!" moaned Dobby in a kind of miserable ecstasy. "So noble! So valiant! But he must save himself, he must, Harry must not—"

Dobby froze as his ears quivered. He must have heard something because he snapped his fingers and disappeared in a _CRACK!_

Suddenly the portrait out of the common room opened and Percy Weasley came in.

"Harry—what are you doing up?" Percy asked.

"I had a nightmare," Harry said. "I couldn't fall back to sleep, so I thought I try to relax in front of the fire and try to clear my head."

"Oh—alright," Percy said. "After tonight, I don't think I can sleep either."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

Percy studied Harry and sighed. "I guess I can tell you since you'll find out anyways," he said. "There was another attack."

"Another—someone else was petrified?" Harry asked. "Who? Anyone we know?"

"A first year Gryffindor," Percy said. "Collin Creevey."

* * *

 **A/N:** Just a fair notice, after tonight I'll be working on the winning poll story of what to update next. The next time this story will be updated (and there will be a next time) will be when it wins a 'which story to be updated next' poll.


	11. Harry's Secret Comes Out

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **Harry's Secret Comes Out**

Percy was right. He barely got any sleep last night. Neither did Harry for that matter. The news of Collin Creevey shook Harry hard. He was attempted to go to where third year students and above learn Divination to talk to the Divination Professor to see if he could find anything about the future involving the Chamber of Secrets.

Attempted, but never did.

The professor of the class: Tewanny, always gave Harry the creeps. Ever since he met her, she been predicting Harry's death. In fact, Harry heard it so much he had long decided to _not_ sign up for Divination as a third year and up class. The last thing Harry needed was t be the class guinea pig in deciphering the future.

The day after the game, Harry was heading to the Shrieking Shack when James stopped him.

"Harry, there you are," James said. "I been meaning to talk to you about something."

"Uh, sure thing Dad," Harry said, "What is it?"

"Well, I over heard Lockhart the other day talking about how you want to learn the charm that forces a werewolf into human form,"

"Oh—uh, yeah." Harry said. "I thought it would make Uncle Moony feel easier about being in the same house as me if I knew how to defend against a werewolf."

"I can understand," James said. "Moony been begging me to teach you when the time comes. But if you want to learn, I can teach you."

"Oh—uh, thanks dad," Harry said. "Can I go now? My friends are waiting for me."

"Okay, kiddo," James replied. "And Harry, you know you can tell me what been bothering you, right?"

"Of course, Dad," Harry said. "I know."

"Good."

…

"I feel bad for lying to my dad about this," Harry said as they were in the Shrieking Shack.

"I understand, Harry. But we can't bring him into our plans," Hermione said. "He could lose his job if he helped us break fifty school rules. Especially after what happened to Colin."

"Besides, the sooner we get information out of Malfoy, the better," snarled Ron.

"Guys, there's something else," Harry said as Hermione tear bundles of knotgrass and throwing them into the potion. "Dobby came to visit me last night."

That caught their attention as Harry told them what Dobb told him.

"So basically he confirmed Lovegood's article," Neville said. "The Quibber actually got a true story."

"Basically," Harry said. "But he wouldn't tell me what the monster is."

"That's a shame," Ron said. "If he did we can find out how it's moving around the school unnoticed—I mean other than by you. I still don't get how you can hear it."

"I'm not sure," Harry said. "Then again, I don't know much about Voldemort other than what I been told."

Everyone flinched at the name Harry mentioned since they still fear the name. Harry wasn't surprise or didn't respond to it. As far as he know, Dumbledore, at times his dad, and himself are brave enough to call Voldemort by that name.

"You and the rest of us," Hermione said.

"I do know one thing," said Ron, "If Dobby doesn't stop trying to save your life, Harry, he might end up killing you."

…

The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. First years started moving around in groups in the castle at night, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth.

Fortunately, for Harry that he was seen nowhere near Colin that night, and the fact Harry had one of the most popular students from Hufflepuff house: Cedric Digory on his side, that some of the suspicions were off him. But that didn't stop some of the Hufflepuff students who were still skeptical from flinching every time Harry came near them.

However, nothing seem to cheer Ginny up. She normally sat next to Colin Creevey in charms, and was distraught. Fred and George tried to cheer her up by covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from statues. It wasn't until Percy threaten to write back home to Mrs. Weasley telling her what they were doing that they stopped.

With Quidditch season still going on, Harry had better luck cheering Ginny up by having her train with him with his Seeker's training since the Hufflepuff game wasn't that far behind. Harry wasn't too worry about the game against Hufflepuff, but he figured having a more active role in quidditch practice might help ease Ginny's mind from what happened, and it seem to work until after practice when Ginny quickly change back to her robes and left before Harry could talk to her

Harry wasn't the only one trying either. James had tried to talk to Ginny to find out what was wrong. But every time he get her to sit down to talk to him, Ginny dodges his questions until she was late for class or need to return to Gryffindor Common room.

It didn't help that McGonagall had James on duty on finding out who been secretly trading talismans, amulets, and other protective devices that was sweeping the school, which none of the teachers knew at first until one day Nevil was caught roaming the castle wearing evil smelling green onion, pointed purple crystal, and rotting newts tail because some student convinced him to get them since he came close to being a Squib.

It turned out that Fred and George was the reason behind it to get a few laughs since Percy wouldn't let them 'Help' Ginny. They didn't really think Neville was at risk, but they knew how to push the right buttons to scare Neville into believing them. But now the damage was already done and the staff became aware of the secret trades.

By the second week of December, Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at the school for Christmas. Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione signed her list since they heard that Malfoy was staying, which sounded suspicious to them.

Harry didn't even have to convince his father to stay as with the attacks going on, Dumbledore requested that all staff members stay for the holidays to protect those (mostly the Muggle borns staying) not going home and to try to figure out who is responsible for the attacks.

Unfortunately, the potion was only half-finished. They still needed the bicorn horn and the boomslang skin from Snape's private stores.

"We need is a diversion," said Hermione briskly as Thursday afternoon's double Potions lesson loomed nearer. "Then one of us can sneak into Snape's office and take what we need."

"How are we going to do that?" Neville asked.

"I was thinking I'd do the actual stealing," Hermione said. "I'm the least person Snape would expect to steal anything if he finds out."

"That actually sounds like a good idea Hermione, but wouldn't Snap suspect Harry anyways for having some part of it?" Neville asked.

"Not if we don't do the distraction," Harry said.

…

Getting someone to create the distraction wasn't too hard. Especially since Harry got the idea from Fred and George.

Harry offered Dean Thomas—who was a muggle-born Gryffindor a trade of all of Neville's protection charm if he agreed to help distract Snape for five minutes as well as some private Quidditch lessons. It turns out Dean had become quite a fan in both soccer and Quidditch, and he wanted to see if he can learn to play and join the reserve Chasers.

Harry didn't seem like it, but he had played chaser once in a while whenever he played with the Weasley family since they normally play with apples there.

So when Thursday's double Potions class came along the plan was set into motion.

Potions took place in one of the large dungeons, as usual. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desk, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients as they were making a swelling solution. Snape prowled through the fumes, making waspish remarks about the Gryffindor's work while Slytherins snigger appreciatively. Draco Malfoy, who was Snape's favorite student, kept flicking puffer-fish eyes at Ron and Harry, knowing they couldn't retaliate without getting a weeks-worth of Detention.

As usual, Hermione and Neville were working at one table, and Harry and Ron were working at the other. They felt that if they change their sitting arrangements even at the slightest, Snape might grow suspicious.

Harry had just barely kept his potion form becoming too runny as Snape sneered at Neville's work. When Snape turned to sneer at Harry's cauldron, complaining that it was now too thick, Hermione gave Dean the signal.

Harry didn't see what happened, but he heard a fizzing sound of one of Fred Weasley's Filibuster fireworks.

Next thing anyone know, Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling solution hit them. Malfoy got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate—Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Through the confusion, Harry saw Hermione slip quietly into Snape's office.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draught—when I find out who did this—"

Harry quickly shot Dean a grateful look as he and Seamus joined the line. He knows he owe them big time for this. Especially since it was funny watching Malfoy hurry forward with his head drooping with the weight of his small melon size nose.

Sure enough, within five minutes she left, Hermione had returned to the dungeon with the front of her robes bulging.

When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the fire work. There was a sudden hush.

"If I ever find out who threw this," Snape whispered, "I shall _make sure_ that person is expelled."

As Harry expected, Snape looked straight at him when he said that. Harry but up his best puzzle expression to hide the relief that Snape didn't suspected Dean having part in this.

When the bell rang and they were far from Snape, Harry walked up to Dean. "Meet me at the Quidditch field this Saturday for some private practice."

Dean nodded before Harry headed off to the shrieking shack.

"That was brilliant getting Dean to help." Ron laughed. "I didn't think Snape suspected him once."

Harry shrugged as he gain them entrance into the shrieking shack.

Once inside Hermione threw the new ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly.

"It'll be ready in two weeks," she said happily.

"Good!" Harry said. "The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can stop lying to my dad."

…

A week later and one private training session with Dean (which turned out pretty good as Dean caught on quickly) later, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment pinned up.

Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned them over, looking excited.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" Seamus said. "First meeting tonight. I wouldn't mind dueling lessons. I mean, I doubt the monster can duel, but the lessons might come in handy one of these days."

"That's true," Harry agreed. "My uncle Padfoot use to brag about how many duels he won against Death Eaters during his youth."

"Maybe your dad is teaching it, Harry," Neville whispered to Harry. "After all, if anyone is more qualified to teach us how to duel it's someone who survived an encounter with You-know-who three times before we were born and isn't—you know."

Harry nodded as he understood. It was hard on Neville to bring up his parents condition just as it is normally hard for Harry to bring up about his mother's sacrifice. But Neville had an excellent point. Harry's dad along with his mum and Neville's parents had encountered Voldemort three times without becoming Death Eaters and survive before they were born (which was three times more than most families can say about their love ones that were killed by Voldemort) and Harry's dad was the only one left that is alive and with an intact mind who works at Hogwarts.

They agreed to go, so at eight o'clock that evening they hurried to the Great Hall where the club was taking place. The long dining tables had vanished (probably by House elves' help) and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"You did bring your new wand this time, right?" Harry asked Ron, knowing how Ron normally grab his broken wand every time he was excited or in a rush.

"Yes Harry," Ron replied as he took out his new 14" wand with unicorn hair to prove it.

That was when Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by—with everyone's surprise James was there in his midnight robes with the Potter Family crest on his right side and his hair looking like someone tried to pat it down. Which Harry guess meant that his dad tried to brush it to be presentable. Probably on Gilderoy's request as Harry knew his dad normally don't try to look presentable to a crowd unless it was a formal dinner party. Not even for Astronomy class does James ever looked this presentable.

…

James can't believe he had to dress up for a dueling club. Unfortunately, this was the only way Lockhart would agree to let him _assist_ with the Dueling club.

Too be honest, Dueling club was actually one of Lockhart's better ideas yet. Sure James knew it was just so Lockhart can show off, and it's less likely any training in the art of Dueling will come in handy against the mystery monster that attacked Filch's cat and Collin Creevey. But even James had to admit that magical duels was something young wizards and witches should learn incase Voldemort ever does come back more permanently than just a spirit possessing a fool's body.

As for why James was here, Dumbledore came to him after he agreed to Lockhart's Dueling Club idea. Mostly because Dumbledore knew James would want to take part the moment he found out to make sure Lockhart doesn't use the club as an opportunity to get to Harry, but partly because James is one of three more qualified staff members to take part of this—the other two being Snape who is skilled in the Dark Arts, and the other being Flitwick since he was a dueling champ. And since Snape is biased to mainly Slytherin house, and again; James will want to take part to keep Lockhart from having private time with Harry.

Also, although Dumbledore didn't directly, but James knew Dumbledore would have turned to him even without Lockhart leading this club because of James' personal experience with the Dark Lord.

Lockhart waved an arm of silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can every one see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!"

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions—for full details, see my publish works."

James cleared his throat to hide his annoyance. This was not the time for Lockhart to use this opportunity to advertise his misleading books.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Potter," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he has a tiny little bit about dueling himself."

"I wouldn't call surviving an encounter with You-Know-Who three times and still able to tell it, _a tiny little_ _bit of dueling_ , Gilderoy," James said. "After all, that's three times more than most live to tell."

…

Harry couldn't help but smirk when his dad comment. Then someone grab his shoulder causing Harry to jump. He look to see it was just Justin Finch-Fletchley—which was still a bit of surprise as Justin haven't talked to him since the Mrs. Norris incident.

"Is that true?" he asked. "What your dad said?"

"Yep!" Harry said proudly. "So did my mum before I was born, as well as Neville's parents."

Neville turned pink as now students were looking at him as if he was something unexpected. Harry didn't dare to bring up Neville's parents being medically insane due to one of the unforgivable curses, but fortunately no one asked Neville about it.

"Yes, well," said Lockhart, obviously trying to draw attention back to himself. "Professor Potter has agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry—you'll still have your lovable _astronomy_ professor when I'm through with him, never fear."

Harry growled when Lockhart said astronomy professor like it was a reminder that if James was so good in Dueling he wouldn't be teaching students about stars and planets.

"I hope your dad finish Lockhart off," Ron muttered.

"You and me both," Harry agreed.

Lockhart and James turned to face each other and bowed; only James' was a simple bow while Lockhart did a twirl with his hand. Then their raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

James looked at Harry and gave him a wink, as if telling his son he had planned this part out.

"One—two—three—"

Both swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponents, but James was faster with the spell.

 _"Silencio!"_

James fired a familiar spell at Lockhart, which hit him. Lockhart tried to call out a spell but found he couldn't.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_ James cried as a dazzling flash of scarlet light fired from his wand and blasted then temporary mute Lockhart off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it sprawl on the floor.

Most of the male students cheered for James' display. There were even a few Slytherins who were nodding in approval.

"First thing to know about dueling," James said as if nothing happened. "Is to never expect your opponents to play fairly. There are dark wizards still out there who would not hesitate to prevent you from using spells in any way possible before killing their opponents. Although it's true there are shield charms you can use to defend yourself from unfriendly spells, there are curses out there that no shield charm can protect you from. And for future reference, when you reach your NEWT year of Hogwarts, I recommend you practice really hard on non-verbal spells. As Professor Lockhart displayed by not using a non-verbal spell himself, not learning it can be dangerous."

Everyone nodded in understanding. Lock hart started getting up and tried to speak with much failure.

"Now, we'll be dividing into pairs of two of your choice, but so there be no advantages and disadvantages among pairing, you must pair with someone from the same year as you. Third years and bellow, I want you to work with disarming spells and shield charm only. Fourth years and Fifth years, only friendly spells that won't cause harm to your fellow classmates especially in case of a misfire. And if there are any Sixth and Seventh years here, same as the fourth and fifth years but with Non-verbal spells. Every now and then I'll request a pairing change to keep you on your feet with each of your classmate's dueling style. So don't get too comfortable with the person you are paired up with because you cannot pair with someone you already dueled with tonight."

No one argued as they paired up. Neville teamed up with Hermione and Harry with Ron.

James count off and soon everyone was casting spells at each other.

 _"Expelliurmus!"_ Harry shouted as he disarms Ron with one try.

"Dang it Harry, you could have let me had the first hit," Ron said as he picked up his wand.

"Sorry Ron, but you heard my dad," Harry said. "You can't expect your opponent to fight fairly."

"Yeah, yeah."

Neville wasn't doing much better as Hermione disarmed him three times before he could even wave his wand.

Meanwhile Lockhart was moving among the crowd, congratulating some of the students for their fine work with a pat on the shoulder or demonstrating something with his wand while mouthing out something that most students had no clue of what he was trying to say since he couldn't talk.

At that point Snape came into the Great Hall and watched the duels going on. Although he was so quiet and with all the dueling going on, no one noticed him.

After a few more rounds, James yelled, "Alright! Switch it up!"

Harry headed toward Hermione for a duel. Unfortunately, that was when Snape decided to make his appearance known.

"No you don't Potter." Snape said. "I got someone else in mind for you to duel."

"Professor Snape," James jumped down from the stage. "I thought Dumbledore made it clear I was assisting Lockhart."

"Yes well, apparently you're doing a horrible job at it," Snape sneered. "Letting your son pair with his friends—how is that exactly preparing them since they know each other so well."

"It's the student's choice, Snape," James said. "Besides, I already made it clear they can't pair with the same people twice tonight."

At this point every student in the room was watching as they could sense the tension building.

"May as it be, but I'm making my own pairing for this once," Snape said. "Mr. Weasley with Mr. Finnigan. Mr. Longbottom with Mr. Finch-Fletchley. Miss Granger with Miss Bulstrode. And Mr. Potter, you'll duel with Mr. Malfoy on stage."

Malfoy strutted over, smirking. Behind him walked a Slytherin girl who reminded Harry of a picture he'd seen in _Holidays with Hags._ She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively.

James sighed as there seemed no way out of this without causing trouble.

"Fine!" James said. "Harry, Draco, on stage. The rest of you, too your new dueling partners."

Harry headed to the stage only to be stopped by James. "Be careful, Harry. I doubt Malfoy will use friendly spells against you."

Harry nodded.

He and Malfoy walked on stage.

"Scared Potter!" Malfoy yelled.

"You wish!" Harry said.

"One—two—three!" James hollered

"Tarantallegra!" Malfoy yelled as a jet of light fired from his wand. However, Harry manage to summon a simple yet resourceful shield charm on time to protect himself.

"Expellirumus!" Harry shot a dazzling red light that hit Malfoy sending him to the ground and dropping his wand.

Malfoy got up and picked up his wand that was across the stage.

 _"Serpensortia!"_ Malfoy's wand exploded as a long black snake shot out of the end. It hit the ground and raised itself toward Harry.

At this moment, everyone stopped and watch as the snake looked ready to strike Harry.

Harry bit his lip, trying to force himself not to speak. Because if he did, Harry had a feeling he would speak in Parselmouth and the secret he been trying so hard to keep from his classmates (other than his closest friends) would be revealed.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with a snake.. "I'll get rid of it…"

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart—who had manage to regain his voice during the confusion. Lockhart brandish his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake flew ten feet into the air and fell onto the floor off the stage with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithering toward Justin Finch-Fletchle and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Unable to stop himself at the fear that Justin would get killed by the snake, Harry spoke up: "Leave him alone!"

The snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes back on Harry. But that wasn't the worse part. The worse part was that Justin was now looking at him scared and angry. Harry knew instantly what he feared came true and now the whole school knew of his gift.

James stepped forward and waved his wand. The snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke.

"Harry, I think it's best you stay in my living quarters for the night," James said.

Harry nodded and ran out of there, ignoring the stares on him.

…

James watched his son leave the room. He had figured from the Snake's reaction that whatever Harry said, it was to stop it from attacking Justin. But to those who don't know Harry, they had a scared and angry expression on his son, which is why James send Harry to his quarters.

"Dueling club is dismissed for the rest of the night. Go back to your common rooms!'

No one argued as they scattered. Even Lockhart and Snape left. Only Hermione, Neville, and Ron who were worried about Harry.

"You guys as well," James said.

"But Professor," Hermione said.

"No buts Hermione," James said in his stern voice. "I know you're worried about Harry, but I think it's best that he has the night to himself."

They nodded and left.

As soon as it was clear, James headed to McGonagall's office. He knocked on the door. McGonagall opened the door and look to see it was James.

"James, what are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I thought I let you know as Head of Gryffindor House that Harry will be staying in my living quarters for the night," James said.

"Why? What happened?"

James gave McGonagall a brief summary of what happened during Dueling Club—which unfortunately included Harry's ability to talk to snakes. James also made it clear that he had doubt Harry used his Parselmouth ability to cause any harm to any students.

Fortunately, McGonagall understood and nodded. "Very well, James. Under these circumstances I'll let your son stay with you for the night."

"Thanks Minerva," James responded.

"No problem, James," she replied. "And James, I do hope that this will blow over for Harry's sake."

James nodded before heading to his own living quarters.

"I swear I'm up to no good!" James said, which magically unlocked the door to his room.

James opened the door to see Harry on the couch with his knees folded up to his chest. Harry looked up to see his father.

"Dad! I didn't mean to do it! I just couldn't let the snake attack Justin!" Harry said.

"It's okay, Harry. I'm not mad at you," James said. "I figured that was the case."

"But the rest of the school might not think it," Harry said. "They might think I'm the heir of Slytherin or a Dark Wizard."

"If they do, it's only out of fear." James said. "Last I check. Salazar Slytherin isn't related to the Potter family in any way possible, and since your mother came from a non-magical family, so there's no way possible she's related to him either. And if anyone try to say otherwise, tell them the truth of what happened with the snake and that it's not the gifts that makes you a dark wizard, it's how you use them."

Harry nodded. "Thanks Dad."

"No problem, Kiddo." James rubbed Harry's head. "Now get some sleep. Something tells me you're going to have a rough day tomorrow."

…

James wasn't kidding about Harry having a rough day. There was a blizzard that morning so thick that the last Herbology lesson of the term was cancel so Professor Sprout could treat fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes.

Harry headed to the library to get his mind off of things and to also hope to find Justin and explain things to him.

As he had expected, there was a group of Hufflepuffs sitting in the far back of the library, but Harry didn't see Justin. He did however overheard what they said.

"So anyway," a stout boy was saying. "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was a Muggle-born. Justin actually _told_ him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"

"You definitely think it _is_ Potter, then, Ernie?" said the blonde pigtails anxiously.

"Hannha," said the stout boy solemnly, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue? And don't forget what was written on the wall. _Enemies of the Heir, Beware_. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Filch's cat's attack. That first year Creevey been hanging around Harry so much, I wouldn't be surprise if Potter decided to gain his trust just to attack him

"What about Professor Potter," said Hannah uncertainly. "There's no way he could…"

"You heard the professor last night," Ernie argued. "He encountered You-Know-Who three times and lived. No ordinary wizard could do that! I wouldn't be surprise he was in cohorts with You-Know-Who the whole time… probably staged his own wife's death and his son got rid of him to get rid of any evidence."

That struck a nerve. Harry could take people bad talking him because he was a Parselmouth, but no one bad mouth his dad.

"How dare you say that about my dad!" Harry stepped out in full rage. "My dad is the bravest man I know! He's a Gryffindor through and through! And he loved my mum so much that her death devastated him for months! It still hurts him today of what happened to her!" Harry choked on the last bit. "The Potter family has been in Gryffindor house for generations and have no relations to Salazar Slytherin! I'm a Gryffindor, and I descend from a family of Gryffindors! I'm only a parselmouth because it's a magical side effects of Voldemort's failed killing curse on me because of my mum's sacrifice to save me!"

Harry ran off after that, leaving the the group of Hufflepuffs in scared, confused, and dazed state.

Harry kept running until he ran into someone, but even then Harry tried to leave until that boy grabbed his shoulder. "Harry stop! What's wrong?"

Harry looked to see it was Cedric Diggory looking rather concern.

At this point, talking to another Hufflepuff was the last thing on Harry's mind. For all he know, Cedric might have turned against him.

Harry tried to shake Cedric's hand off him, but that just made Diggory hold on tighter.

"Harry, talk to me!" Cedric said. "You can trust me, remember?"

Harry did calm down after a bit and told Cedric what had happened in the library.

When he was done Cedric was angry, but not at Harry.

"Why those little—" Cedric gritted his teeth. "I don't care if Hufflepuff is my own house, I'm deducting ten points for Ernie's behavior! He should know better than to bad mouth a professor like that, much less your own father."

"You don't think I'm a Dark Wizard?" Harry asked.

Cedric shook his head. "I don't know what to think about you parselmouth, Harry. But I do know your father is not a dark wizard," Cedric said. "And I doubt any parent that isn't one would raise their kid to be one."

Harry smiled a little, relief to have someone other than Ron Hermione Neville and his dad on his side."

"Now, go on, and don't run!" Cedric said. "You're lucky I was the one who caught you instead of Percy Weasley. Otherwise Gryffindor House would be the one loosing points."

Harry nodded and left. However, he didn't get very far before bumping into another familiar figure: _Hagrid._

"All righ', Harry," Hagrid said. "Why aren't yeh in class?"

"Herbology was canceled," said Harry. "What're you doing in here?"

Hagrid held up a limp rooster. "Second one killed this term," he explained. "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop. Yeh sure yeh're all righ'? Yeh look all shookin' up?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said. "I'd better get going, Hagrid. I have Transfiguration next, and I doubt that'll be canceled due to a blizzard."

"All righ' then, Harry," Hagrid said. "Oh, an' Harry. If yeh need someone besides your dad to talk too, you know you can talk ter me, righ'?"

Harry nodded with a slight smile. "I know Hagrid."

Harry left and headed up the stairs, turning along another corridor, which was particularly dark—which was odd. Harry knew for a fact that torches are hardly ever extinguish in Hogwarts during the day, and it seemed someone just did that.

Harry took out his wand, ready for anything. Of course, Harry knew this might be some kind of prank set up by someone (likely the Weasley twins)—but with what happened to Mrs. Norris and Collin, Harry was taking no chances. He just wish he knew the spell that lit the end of his wand like a flashlight. Unfortunately, that spell was a third year spell, and Harry has yet to learn it.

 _I'll just have to go with disarming,_ Harry thought. If there's one good thing that came from the Dueling Club it was that Harry was a natural with disarming charms.

Harry slowly progress through the corridor. Halfway through, Harry thought he was in the clear and that this was indeed just some form of prank. At least, that was hat Harry thought until he tripped headlong over something lying on the floor.

He turned and raised his wand and squinting his eyes, ready to cast his spell when his stomach dissolved.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was the strangest sight Harry had ever seen—even stranger than seeing Voldemort's face at the back of Quirrell's head last year.

It was Nearly Headless Nick. But instead of being the usual pearly white and transparent, he was black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off an expression of shock identical to Justin's.

A few feet from them was a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the boddies. The only sound Harry heard was the muffled sounds of teachers from classes on either sides.

If it wasn't for the fact Harry was shock, he would put away his wand, and run for it, but he was too shock to even move. Not even the door slamming wide open as Peeves the Poltergeist shot out of the room did the trick.

"Why, it's potty wee Potter!" cackled Peeves, knocking Harry's glasses askew as he bounced past him. "What's Potter up to? Why's Potter lurking with his wand—"

Peeves stopped, halfway through a midair somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped right way up, filled his lungs, and just as Harry snapped out of his daze, he screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

Crash—crash—crash—door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out around Harry, Justin, and Nick. Harry found himself in deep trouble with his wand out as teachers shout for quiet. Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her own class. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie from Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene.

 _"Caught in the act!"_ Ernie yelled, his face stark white as he pointed his finger at Harry who was still holding his wand.

"What? No! I didn't do it!" Harry argued, "Professor McGonagall, surely you can't think I've done this."

"Don't try to talk your way out of this, Potter!" Ernie sneered.

"That will do, Macmillan," said Professor McGonagall as she examined Justin's and Nick's body. But it was clear that both were petrified.

Soon Professor Flitwick and a female professor Harry recognized from his time visiting his dad as the one who teaches a third year and up course Muggles Study: Professor Burbage carried Justin to the hospital wing. As for Nick, McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air and had Ernie use it to fan Nick up to the Hospital wing as well.

"This way, Potter," she said.

"Professor," Harry said. "You can't surely think I did this. I had nothing against Justin, and you know I'm good friends with Nick."

"I want to believe that, Potter. But for a case this serious, I'm not the one you need to convince," McGonagall said.

Normally that would cause Harry's heart to sink, but for this moment, it made it leap as he knew Professor McGonagall was referring to Dumbledore. Whenever there a student was caught in a scene of an attack of this magnitude, the student is send to the Headmaster's office—Dumbledore's office.

If anyone can help clear Harry's name at this point, it's Dumbledore.

McGonagall lead Harry to a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle—which Harry recognize from his many visits as the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

Harry remember Dumbledore once telling him that each Headmaster has of passwords unique to each of their personality to gain entrance to their office. In Dumbledore's case: it had always been his favorite sweets and candy—both muggle and magical. So it didn't surprise Harry when Professor McGonagall said, "Lemon drop." And the gargoyle sprang to life and hopped aside as the wall behind it split into two, revealing the spiraling staircase behind it.

"You know where to go," McGonagall said. "Best of luck."

Harry nodded and headed toward the staircase. After a few steps he heard the walls closed behind him. This was it. Either Dumbledore believed him—which he had high hopes for—or if his luck hadn't improved as much as he hoped: expelled.

* * *

 **A/N:** That was fun, especially having James using the silence charm on Lockhart then disarming him. Many of you might argue about Harry revealing himself as a parselmouth, but the secret had to come out eventually. As for having what Ernie said: you got to understand with fear there's not always logic. Unlike Cedric, Ernie and most other second as well as first year students didn't have years to get to know Harry, so for him to reveal out of the blue that he has a gift that is common with Dark Wizards and Witches would be a scary thought for most, and fear tends to create illogical and yes sometimes logical ideas (such as how Harry became a Parselmouth).

Anyways, as for the polls. As you can figure "The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Chamber of Secrets" has won. And if I finish this story before the month of December ends, I would continue on with it's sequel: "The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Prisoner of Azkaban" until January, when I'll start working on this month's winning story.

Also about the polls. Starting this month since it's for the story I'll be working on the start of the new year of January 2017, every poll will have a theme that goes with the story that lost the previous month. That way it will be easier for me to figure out what story will go on the poll. Sometimes it will be based on what the losing story is based off of, sometimes it depends on what kind of fanfiction it is, and sometimes it depends on the genre. This month's theme is 'Zatch Bell Fanfiction' for those who are Zatch Bell fans. Meaning the poll is full of stories based off of Zatch Bell since the losing story of last month's poll was a Zatch Bell Fanfiction and I had more than four stories under that category. But since I can't predict what story will loose this early in the month, I can't tell you what the next theme would be.

Lastly, as some of you who been reading: 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Blood of Olympus' knows, I been unable to finish the story or work on it as much as I want. I just want to make clear that I can only finish any fanfictions as much as I can as long as nothing else comes up that interferes with my plans, as what happened last month. That applies to all of the stories I had posted and worked on this sight. So please be patient with me.


	12. The Plan Gone Wrong

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **The Plan Goes Wrong**

As Harry climbed each step, he couldn't help but think back to the first time he visited Dumbledore's office.

Harry was four and he was adventuring around Hogwarts when he saw Professor Dumbledore leave his office through the sliding walls. And being a curious child he was, he tried to find out how the entrance worked until Dumbledore caught him trying to get the Gargoyle to budge by will, thinking it was the key to the wall opening up.

When Dumbledore asked Harry why he was there, Harry answered that he wanted to see what was on the other side. What Harry didn't expect was that Dumbledore chuckled and said the password that opened up the staircase, and let Harry follow him up to his office. Since then, whenever Harry wanted to visit Dumbledore in his office, he was allowed up. At least, that was the case until last year when Harry and his friends tried to enter Dumbledore's office to warn him that the Sorcerer's Stone was at risk of being stolen, only to find out from Professor McGonagall that Dumbledore was gone.

But still, Harry knew that any time he need help with something that his father can't always be around to help with, Harry could turn to the Headmaster for guidance. Even James had told Harry that if he had any trouble while in Hogwarts and can't find him, that he should go to Dumbledore.

Now that Harry thought about it, maybe that's what he should have done instead of heading to the library to clear his head. Maybe if he done this first, he wouldn't have overheard Ernie. Maybe he wouldn't have run off and needed Cedric and Hagrid's help in calming down. Then maybe he wouldn't have gone through the dark corridor and stumble upon Justin and Nick.

Harry reached the top of the staircase and rapped at the only doorway there The door opened silently and Harry entered.

The room was as beautiful interesting as Harry remembered. It was large and circular, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with magically moving portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and sitting on a shelf behind it was a shabby, tattered wizard's hat—the sorting hat.

Harry didn't dare touch that thing, much less put it on. He didn't need to as he know what it would say: that Harry would have belonged in any of the four houses. And Harry knew it. He was Ravenclaw smart, Gryffindor brave, Hufflepuff loyal and Slytherin cunning, and as of last year when all four of those tributes of the four houses came in handy against Quirrell and Voldemort, they came in handy, he was proud of it.

Most might think being Cunning is a bad thing since it's a trait of Slytherin house that most Dark Wizards come from, but Harry knew better. Being Cunning doesn't make you a dark wizard. It's how you choose to be cunning.

 _Just as being a Parselmouth doesn't make me a dark wizard,_ Harry reminded himself.

Harry decided to look somewhere else, not needing another reminder of how it's his choices that makes him him.

Harry turned only to see he wasn't alone. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey with red feathers—a phoenix. Dumbledore's phoenix.

Harry seen the bird a hundred times, and it still amazes him every time he seen it.

"Judging from your appearance, I take it you don't have much time," Harry said.

Just as Harry said that, the bird burst into flames. If you have seen it or the first time, it might scare you to death. It sure scared Harry a few times. But now, Harry knew what to expect.

Harry searched around until he found some bird feed that he knew was meant for phoenixes. He scooped up a handful and poured it into a plate next to it and waited.

Surely enough, from the ashes of where the Phoenix burst into flames, a new born wrinkled bird poked its head out and chirped its thanks to Harry.

"No problem, Fawkes," Harry said—calling the phoenix by it's given name.

At that moment the door opened and hit Harry from behind, nearly knocking him over.

Harry turned to see Dumbledore as he closed the door.

"Ah, Harry. I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect you to be behind the door," Dumbledore said. "I'm guessing Fawkes has burst into flames on you."

Harry nodded as Dumbledore settled himself in the high chair behind the desk and fixed Harry with his penetrating light blue stare—which only reminded Harry why he was there.

But before either Harry or Dumbledore could speak, the door flew open one more and this time hit Harry in the nose.

James came bursting in. "Dumbledore, I don't know what you heard, but you of all people should know Harry wouldn't hurt anyone, muggle-born or not. And he certainly wouldn't hurt Nick. Those two been friends since Harry was little!"

Harry groaned and rubbed his throbbing nose as he got out from behind the door in order to avoid another door slam into the nose.

"It's all right, James. I am fully aware of Harry's innocence," Dumbledore said nodding toward Harry's direction.

James turned to see his son, still rubbing his nose. "Harry! Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Harry replied while thinking, _Except for my throbbing nose._

"As I was saying, I had my doubts it was Harry that attack Mr. Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nicholas of Gryffindor tower, nor did I had ever expected him to be the cause of any attacks," Dumbledore said. "But I must ask, what were you doing at the Corridor."

Harry recite everything that happened to him today, including what Ernie said at the library.

James clench his fist. "Why that arrogant—"

"James, calm," Dumbledore said. "I'm certain Mr. Macmillan was just acting out of fear for the safety of his friend. Now continue Harry."

Harry continued from there with his conversation with Cedric and Hagrid up until his encounter in the dark corridor with Nick and Justin—already in a petrified state.

"I see," Dumbledore said.

"Sir, there's nothing I don't get," Harry said. "Of all things and people living here at Hogwarts, I would have thought the ghost be the safest from whatever attacked Collin and Justin. So how is it Nick ended up petrified?"

"Well, Harry, to answer your question, it's true ghost are safe from being killed from most magic due to the fact they are already dead, it doesn't mean they are immune to other dark magical powers such as petrification," Dumbledore said. "But I must admit, for something to petrify a ghost would have to be very, _very_ powerful, as well as very ancient and crafty to be able to catch a ghost as old as Nicholas off guard."

 _Something like the monster in the Chamber of Secrets,_ Harry thought to himself.

"I think that's enough for one night," Dumbledore said. "James, why don't you escort Harry to Gryffindor tower. I'm sure his friends have heard the news and is worried sick about him. But come back later, as there's something I think we need to discus."

"Yes sir," James said. "Come on Harry."

Harry nodded and followed his dad out the door.

…

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what hitherto been nervousness into real panic. The fact that something could petrify a human scared a lot of students.

Dumbledore had decided to lift the school rules about magic in the corridors to where it's allowed on self-defense—which hadn't been done since the Maurders were in school. Filch wasn't too happy about that, but with four attacks already before Christmas break, he couldn't argue against it.

However, it didn't ease the students minds as there was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so they could go home for Christmas. It was only luck that Harry was still staying as Dumbledore was content on keeping most of the staff at the castle to protect those staying: namely Hermione, since it became clear she was the only Muggleborn staying.

Unfortunately, Neville's Grans had asked him to come home for Christmas so they can go visit Neville's Parents for Christmas.

"I wish I could convince my grans to let me stay," Neville said.

"Hey, it's okay," Harry said.

"Besides, at the rate things are going, you and Hermione might not get what you need for the potion," Ron said. "Not looking forward to getting the essence of Crabbe."

Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Malfoy, signed up to stay over the holidays with Malfoy, which even Harry knew was suspicious. Not just on Draco Malfoy but the whole Malfoy family. If they only know stories from what they heard of what was going on at Hogwarts, Harry would think Malfoy's parents want their son home safe.

However Harry didn't have much time to think about the plans as Fred and George been making his torment of dealing with first years and second years avoiding him by following him around every chance they get shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through."

It been really annoying, especially since Harry knew they don't really believe he was the heir of Slytherin.

Fortunately, they stopped when Percy wrote home without warning about it and the next day the Weasley Twins got a howler—a magical letter that explodes to life as words read out from the letter—telling them they should stop messing around and making Harry feel worse than he already was.

It was rather embarrassing for both the Weasley Twins and Harry as Mrs. Weasley made Harry sounded like a depressed child who could go suicidal in front of the whole school. Only good thing came out of it was that not only the Weasley Twins stopped, but through the Howler Harry knew that he had the full Weasley family support—parselmouth or not (Although the howler said nothing about Charlie and Bill—the two eldest Weasley siblings who already graduated Hogwart—Harry had hoped it meant them too).

"I wouldn't say I won't," Hermione said smugly as she took out a piece of hair. "I got off from Millicent Bullstrode when Snape made me duel her."

"How did you manage that?" Harry asked.

"Let's just say our duel ended with a wrestling match before Malfoy summoned his snake," Hermione said. "Anyways, Bullstrode is going home for the Holidays, so I figure I use it as an opportunity to help gather info."

…

Things were rather peaceful as soon as Christmas break started. The Great Hall was beautiful, Dumbledore lead them through some Christmas Carols, Harry got to spend time with his dad. Nothing could be more perfect. Not even Malfoy's annoying remarks didn't bother Harry. Harry even visit some of the house elves in the kitchens.

Christmas morning dawned cold and white. Harry had stayed at his dad's living quarters in his own private room there when Hermione and Ron burst into the room, both carrying presents for Harry.

"Harry, wake up," Hermione said loudly.

Harry groaned and turned.

"I told you Harry wouldn't like getting up this early," Ron said.

"But the you know what is ready," Hermione said.

That woke Harry up as he sat up. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Hermione sat down on the corner of Harry's bed. "If we're going on with the plan, it has to be tonight."

"Come on Harry, your dad got us some breakfast from the kitchens and Hermione and I brought our presents so we can open them together," Ron offered.

Harry nodded.

Harry's Christmas presents were as great as usual. Hagrid send him a large tin of treacle toffee. Ron got him a book called _Flying with the Cannons_. The Andromeda and her husband send Harry a new scarf too keep him warm. A sweater from the Weasleys, a new magically enchanted knife that unlock things from Sirius (although the old one was still in good shape, Harry kept it in case he ever needs a spare one), a broom cleaning kit from Remus, and a luxury eagle feather quill from Hermione.

Hermione and Ron were in a shock when they open a package from James and Sirius only to find received a communications mirror.

"Neville should have one as well," James explained. "Sirius and I thought since you four are the second generation of Maurders, you guys should have two-way communication mirrors like we have."

But the biggest surprise was when Ron and Hermione got a gift from Tonks and he opened it to find it was a brand new wand holster with a note to Harry:

 _I know you asked me to get one for Ron, but I thought I pull some strings to get Hermione and Neville one as well for Christmas in case there ever comes a time when all four of you need to travel through Portkey. Like yours, their holster is enchanted to hold any size wand  
Tonks_

"You really told Tonks to give me one?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "But I didn't think she would get one for Hermione and Neville too."

"These will come in handy," Hermione said as she placed her wand in in her new holster.

…

Christmas dinner was so magnificent that Harry Hermione and Ron couldn't dread about drinking the Polyjuice Potion.

The Great Hall was magnificent. Not only there a dozen frost covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling. Harry had a few laughs every time he saw his dad dodge being accidentally being caught under a mistletoe with his female coworkers.

Unfortunately, it was one of those dodges that Hermione decided after deserts to drag them off to the girl's bathroom in the First floor, other known as Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"I moved it this morning," Hermione explained. "I figured with it being warmer in here than in the Shrieking shack, and with the stalls for privacy, we can prepare easier here."

"Sounds good to me," Harry said. "Besides, with less students here, we won't be able to slip in and out to the shrieking shack tonight."

"You two still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Hermione. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Malfoy's best friends."

"More like closest thing Malfoy can get to friends," Harry said.

"Either way, Malfoy probably will tell them anything," Hermione explained. "And you need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him."

"And how are we supposed to get that?" Ron asked.

"I've got that all worked out," she went on smoothly as she held up two plump chocolate cakes. "I filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hair and hide them in a broom closet."

Harry wanted to argue against this plan, as there were many flaws in it, but since he had no better plan, he chooe not too. He just hoped his dad.

…

Well, everything went well until toward the end of the interrogation. They were able to trick Crabbe and Goyle to eat the chocolate cakes. They manage to stuff the two goons into a broom closet and get their hair as well as shoes.

They added the hairs to the potions and drank it and went through the horrible transformation. Fortunately Hermione got them spare Slytherin for the interrogation and spare Gryffindor Robes for after it, because their transformation caused their robes to rip slightly apart.

Hermione decided not to go for some reason, but Harry and Ron didn't think twice as they fumble their way though the halls, trying to find the Slytherin Common room, where fortunately Malfoy found them while searching for his _friends_ and led them to the common room—which was in one of the dungeons in the castle either next to or underneath the lake

What went wrong wasn't the interrogation itself. No, it went mildly well, although Malfoy turned out to know nothing about who could have caused the attacks (although he did let it slip that he hope that Hermione was next to be attack).

But they did learn that the Malfoys were up against Arthur Weasley in the laws for muggle protection. But Malfoy's father apparently didn't inform his on of the plan on how, so Ron and Harry let it go for now.

What went wrong was that they ran out of time toward the end and started turning back to their normal selves and had to leave immediately. What went wrong was when they came back to Myrtle's Bathroom and found Hermione had turned into a cat-girl due to the fact that the hair she got off of Bullstrode turned out to be cat hair.

Now the two were facing James after taking Hermione to the Hospital Wing as James found on the way back to his living quarters.

"Would you two care to explain why Hermione looks like a cat?" James interrogated.

Harry and Ron shuffled their feat. "Would you believe it was a prank gone wrong on George and Fred?" Harry asked.

"I would if it didn't look like a work from a NEWT level magic," James said.

Harry and Ron didn't say anything.

"All right, if you're not going to say anything, Fifteen points each deducted from Gryffindor house for lying to a teacher, and you have to serve a week detention once the holidays is over," James said. "And that includes Hermione once she's out of the Hospital Wing. And I'll also be owling Neville's Grandmother about this so she can find out if he knows anything about this. And if he does, he'll be serving detention and that would be another fifteen points from Gryffindor."

"Yes sir," Ron and Harry responded.

"Now go to your common room," James said.

They nodded and left.

"We're so caught," Ron said. "There's no way Neville can keep the plan a secret from his grandmother."

Harry nodded. If there was anyone Neville was scared of other than Snape, it was his grandmother when she's angry at him or trying to pry answers from him, or both.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry for leaving out the interrogation, but my mind draw blank on how to work some changes to where it just on what Malfoy knows instead of if he was the heir of slytherin.


	13. The Not-So Blank Diaryof TM Riddle

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **The Not-So Blank Diary**

Harry and Ron don't know how he manage it, but Neville manage to keep the some of truth from his grandmother. Sadly, Neville couldn't keep the full truth about him having part of it. So Gryffindor House lost sixty points over Christmas break.

Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumor of her disappearance when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas holidays, because of course everyone thought that she had been attacked. So many students filed past the hospital wing trying to catch glimpse of her that Madam Pomfrey did Hermione a favor by taking out the curtains and placed the around her bed.

Fortunately, the detention wasn't that bad. It wasn't pleasant, but it was no walk in the Forbidden Forrest either. Harry Ron and Neville had to clean the trophy room's trophy top to bottom with no magic until they were approved by Filch himself.

"You're lucky you don't have to serve detention until after you get out of here," Ron said as they brought Hermione her homework. "Filch had us clean those trophies ten times before letting us go last night."

"You wouldn't have to serve detention if I knew that the hair I got was cat hair," Hermione said.

"It's not your fault," Harry said. "You thought you got a lucky break with that. We all would have made the same mistake."

"Still, it was for nothing," Neville said. "I can't believe Malfoy didn't know a thing about who is responsible behind the attacks."

"Um, Hermione, what's that?" asked Harry, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.

"Just a get well card," said Hermione as she tried to poke it out of sight, but Ron was quicker and pulled it out to read aloud:

 _"To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Forces Defense League, and five-time winner of_ Witch Weekly's _Most-Charming-Smile Award."_

Ron looked up at Hermione, disgusted. "You sleep with this under your _pillow_?"

Fortunately for Hermione, Madam Pomfrey swept over with her evening dose of medicine and the three boys had to leave.

"Leave it to Lockhart to send Hermione a Get Well Card," Neville said.

"Come on guys, I need to finish my potions Homework," Harry said. "The last thing I need is to get detention from Snape after finishing up dad's detention."

Ron and Neville didn't argue as they follow Harry to the Gryffindor common room. As harsh as it seems to do detention with Filch, they all know that Snape can be crueler with the punishments.

Just then, they heard an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ear.

"That's Filch," Harry muttered as they hurried up the stair and paused out of sight, listening hard, reaching for their wands in case they need it as they heard Filch yelled hysterically.

 _"—even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore—"_

His footsteps receded along the out-of-sight corridor and they heard a distant door slam.

"Someone must have used the newly lifted rules to make a mess," Neville said.

Ever since Dumbledore lifted the rules where you could use magic on self-defense, there been a few accidents where some Muggle-born students accidentally cast a spell because someone caught them off guard by accident—which in understanding is an expected response when students are scared. But that doesn't stop Filch from threatening Dumbledore that he would quit every time there is a mess to clean up due to accidental magic.

"Let's check it out," Harry said.

They poked their heads around the corner to the corridor where Filch's cat was attacked (which explains why Filch was there). However, they saw that a great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"Something must have upset Myrtle," Harry said. "She only wails this much when someone or something upset her more than usual."

"This is more than usual?" Ron asked.

"Just look out for Filch. I'll go see what's wrong," Harry said.

He headed into the bathroom and Neville and Ron stood guard. Moments later the flooding seem to slow down as the wailing seem to calm a bit. Then after a few minutes Harry came out with a little black book in his hands.

"Well, I was right, someone made Myrtle more upset than usual," Harry said holding up the book.

"Are you sure it's safe to hold?" Ron asked.

"I don't know. All I know is it looks like an ordinary journal or diary Muggles use. And check this out." Harry opened it to the first page where there was a smudge of ink that letters that made out "T.M. Riddle".

"I saw that name when we were cleaning and polishing the trophies," Harry said. "He supposedly did great service to Hogwarts. And yet when I flip through the pages—" Harry manage to flip through the blank wet pages. "—they're all empty. Not a single writing. It was as if this T.M. Riddle bought this book but never used it after writing his own name in it."

"What do we do with it?" Neville asked.

"I think we keep it for safe keeping and try to figure it out. But if it turns out to be more than what we can handle or if we start acting out of the ordinary while carrying this book, we turn it in to my dad and Professor Dumbledore," Harry said.

"Good idea," Ron said.

…

Hermione left the hospital wing completely normal at the beginning of February. On her first evening back in Gryffindor tower, Harry showed her T.M. Riddle diary and told her how they came across it and their plans in case it turns out dangerous.

Hermione tried a few spells to get anything out of it.

"It looks roughly fifty years old, right?" Hermione asked. "If this belonged to T.M. Riddle, he might know what happened the last time the Chambers of Secrets was open."

But everything she did didn't work as nothing was revealed.

In the end, they agree to take turns keeping the Journal, and wait until what they can find out about the diary (if there was anything) before showing it to anyone.

They also went to the trophy room to find out if they can find out more on Riddle. Only thing they learned was that Riddle was a prefect and Head Boy, which reminded Ron of his brother Percy.

On the bright side, there seemed to been no attacks since before Christmas break, and the mood in the castle improved.

Harry also overheard Professor Sprout talking to Filch, giving him good news that the Mandrakes were fast leaving childhood and it won't be long until they're ready for making the potion to cure those petrified.

It seemed though that now Students are allowed to use magic in the corridors, that the Heir of Slytherin wasn't able to continue his/her attacks.

Harry just wish that was enough to convince Ernie Macmillan and some of his Hufflepuff friends, who were still convinced Harry was the one attacking Muggle-borns and that James was in cohoots with it. Needless to say, the sixty points Gryffindor House lost over winter break became nothing to how many points Ernie and his friends lost Hufflepuff House for speaking out of term about a student and/or teacher behind their backs—most of them taken by Hufflepuff's very own Cedric Digory, who refused to budge on his opinion about Harry, as well as from Professor Sprout, who had enough hearing her own house bad mouthing a teacher and student.

Gilderoy Lockhart didn't make things easier though. He himselfthink he had something to do with the attacks stopping. He was found bosting to McGonagall about how the culprit was scared away from him, and how he had a new idea of how to bring back school spirit in celebration.

No one had an idea what that meant until February Fourteenth—a.k.a. Valentines Day—came around and everyone arrived at the Great Hall just find it heavily decorated for the holiday. The walls were covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling.

Even Harry found it odd when he arrived late that morning after sleeping in after a long late night Quidditch Practice. He been visiting Hogwarts since he was little, and he never seen the Great Hall this heavily decorated. Valentines day was one of those holidays that only staff and students who has a girlfriend, boyfriend, fiancé, husband, or wife celebrated, so normally the staff don't bother with as much decorations for it as they do for Halloween or Christmas.

In fact, most of the time, most of the decorations you might see on Valentine Day were owl feathers on the tables from the large number of owls that swoops through the hall with Valentine gifts and cards.

Harry sat down by his friends at Gryffindor Table. Hermione was overcome with giggles as Ron and Neville looked disgusted.

 _Since when Hogwarts was this big with Valentines day?_ Harry thought.

Harry's thoughts were answered when he looked up at the Staff table and saw Lockhart wearing a lurid pink robes to match the decorations waving for silence. Lockhart seemed to be the only one in a good mood as every single teacher looked like they were resisting the need to strangle him. Even his own dad had a twitching finger, as if deciding to use his wand or not.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this for you all—"

 _I should have known_ , Harry groaned.

"—and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs—each of them wearing golden wing and carrying harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering you valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands and Snape looked as if he was plotting on force feeding anyone who asked him to make a love potion poison instead.

"This is going to be the worse Valentines Day ever," Harry muttered as they left the hall for class.

And Harry wasn't lying. All day dwarves had pushed Harry away or stepped on his feet to deliver messages.

Once, a small yet strong dwarf pushed Harry onto the floor causing the contents in his bag to spill out. Unfortunately after the last class, Harry didn't properly closed his ink bottle as he was in a hurry, o when his bag spilled out, the lid popped open and spilled over everything. Even the Diary—which was in Harry's bag as it was his turn to keep it for the day—was hit by ink.

Unfortunately, Malfoy was there as he snatch up the bok.

"Ooh, what do we have here, Potter?" Malfoy asked.

"Give that back!"

"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" Malfoy said.

Many people stopped to look what was going on. However Malfoy opened it to find it empty.

"There's nothing on here!" Malfoy responded and throw it into the ground. "How stupid is that?"

For once Harry found himself glad that there was nothing on the diary as he picked it up along with the rest of his stuff.

It wasn't until they reached charms class Harry noticed something odd about the diary. All of his other books were drenched in ink, but the diary was clean, as if none of the ink hit it.

…

Harry slammed his trunk shut with Tom Riddles Diary in it taped together by spello tape.

 _I should have gone to my dad the moment it started responding back,_ Harry scorned himself.

But he bring himself to blaming himself for it. He was curious.

He had gone to bed early that night to investigate the diary even more. But when he purposely left a blot of ink on the first page that magically disappeared, his curiosity got the better of him and he started writing in the diary.

It turns out the diary is enchanted with the memories of Tom Riddle, who indeed was in Hogwarts fifty years ago when the Chamber of Secrets was first open.

But Tom didn't write the story to Harry. He literally showed Harry.

Somehow the book pulled Harry into it's pages like how a wizard can be sucked into a pensive (a large bowl use to show memories), and Harry saw what happened the last night the Chamber of Secrets was opened.

What really shook Harry was what happened in those memories. To stop Hogwarts from closing down, Tom went to Hagrid and blamed him for what happened to the Muggle-born that was killed because he owned a huge spider that Tom claimed was the monster.

 _It can't be Hagrid,_ Harry thought. _Hagrid never would do something like that._

Harry remained fidgety with anxiety until Ron and Neville entered the room.

"Harry. What's wrong?" Neville asked.

Harry took a shaky breath. "Guys, we got to take Tom Riddle's Diary to Dumbledore."


	14. Things Just got Worse

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **Things Just Got Worse**

Ron and Neville manage to convince Harry not to turn in the diary until after they tell Hermione what Harry experience, but they did agree to leave it in Harry's trunk until then.

Unfortunately, they weren't able to find a private place to chat about it until the next morning during breakfast and since Harry refused to carry that book around anymore, it stayed in his trunk until later when he can take it out to show it to his dad.

In the end, Hermione agreed with turning it in. So after the last class of the day, they headed to the boy's dormitory to get it.

However, when they got there, they found room in the mess with Harry's stuff scattered. His cloak layed on the floor. The enchanted knives dug into the floor like someone threw it and it landed that way. Harry's two way communication mirror shattered next to the bed. Everything was out.

"They must have been looking for something," Ron said as he looked at Harry's robes as their pockets were turned out.

"This is not good!" Harry said looking through the trunk. "Tom Riddle's diary is gone!"

 _"What?"_ Ron and Neville responded.

"But who—" Hermione stopped herself. "Only a Gryffindor could have stolen it. No one else knows the password."

…

Weeks went by and Harry brood at the thought of who could have stolen the book.

Now that the book was gone, it seems pointless to go to Dumbledore. At least with the Diary they can prove that something was off about it, but without it they might as well have nothing.

But that's not what scared Harry. It was the thought of why a Gryffindor would stole the diary in the first place. Unless you written in it, or at least spill ink on it, you wouldn't think it was anything special much less magical. So it had to be someone who knew about the magical properties of it.

Fortunately, Harry was able to get a new communication mirror since the last one was shattered. Although no one knew about the diary, word did get around about someone breaking into Harry's trunk and scattering his belongings across the room, so James knew about the mirror being shattered. James also ordered for a new lock for Harry's trunk.

On the bright side, the attacks still haven't returned and Harry haven't heard the disembodied voice, which made his life easier. Even Ernie and his friends had stopped accusing Harry of being behind the attacks.

As March came around, the Mandrakes threw a loud raucous party in the greenhouse three, which according to Professor Sprout said was a good sign. All that is left to wait for was the Mandrakes to move into their own pots and it would be time to revive those petrified.

…

The second years were given something new to think about during their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for the third year, a matter that Hermione, at least took very seriously as she believes their choice could affect their future.

Neville Longbottom had been sent letters from all of the witches and wizard in his family, all with advice on what to choose. He ended up asking for everyone's opinion. Dean Thomas, who grew up with muggles, ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his wand at his list, then picking the subjects it landed on.

Harry didn't think twice on the choices he made: Care for Magical Creatures, and Muggle Studies. He choose Care for Magical Creatures as he had been interested in it since Charlie Weasley signed up for the class for the first time and use to tell Harry about it during Summer break, and he choose Muggles Studies to hope to get a better understanding of his muggle heritage since the closest thing he had to a Muggle experience was either in the Dursley's house or in their back yard.

Hermione was about to sign up for every class, but Harry recommended against it—well, mostly against Divination

"Trust me Hermione, you are better off without Divination. The professor is—weird—and besides it's mostly guess work which isn't your style," Harry said.

Eventually Harry convince her to drop out of the idea of Divination and eventually Muggles Studies as Harry convince her that being a Muggle-Born she didn't need the class: which just leaves her with Arithmancy and Ancient Ruins (which was more her style) and Care for Magical Creatures since Harry Ron and Neville agreed to sign up for that. It was still one extra class than most second years go for (which is normally two) but no one could change Hermione's decision after that.

As for Ron's and Neville's second choice, despite Harry's complaints about the class, they signed up for Divination. The way they see it, guess work means easy OWLs for them.

…

Days after signing up for Third year courses, and it was once again time for the Gryffindor's Quidditch match, this time against Hufflepuff.

Practice been hard, but fortunately the weather been improving. The day of the match had a brilliant sunshine and light, refreshing breeze.

"Perfect Quidditch conditions!" said Wood enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs. "Harry, buck up there, you need a decent breakfast."

After breakfast, Ron and Neville headed up to the Gryffindor common room so Harry could gather his quidditch stuff. Hermione didn't come with them as she wanted to check something out of the library. Which wasn't much of a surprise. Ever since the diary was stolen, Hermione been in the Library constantly, trying to find out more of what happened fifty years ago.

Ever since someone broke into his trunk, Harry kept his magically enchanted knife on him to unlock the new lock on his trunk and kept the original key at the bottom of the trunk.

Harry just took a step on the staircase when he heard it yet again—

 _"Kill this time… let me rip… tear…"_

"The voice!" Harry said.

"You hear it again?" Neville asked.

Harry nodded.

"What did it say?"

Harry was about to answer when people started emerging from the Great Hall behind him, talking loudly, exiting though the front doors on their way to the Quidditch pitch.

"Later," Harry said. "come on, I need to grab my stuff!"

They raced to the Gryffindor common room and gathered Harry's quidditch robes, Nimbus 2000, and of course his goggles. Although it didn't look like it was going to rain, Harry prefer using them during a Quidditch game as it made it easier for him to play without worrying about his glasses falling off.

Once he got everything, he headed down to the locker room to change.

The teams walked onto the field to tumultuous applause. Oliver was taking warm up flights around the goal post and Hufflepuffs were gathered in an huddle.

Harry was about to mount his broom when Professor McGonagall came half marching, half running across the pitch. She waved her wand and place it in her throat to magnify her voice.

"This match has been canceled," Professor McGonagall called out to the stadium.

There were a bunch of boos as Oliver Wood, looking devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall.

"But Professor!" He shouted. "We've got to play—"

Professor Mc Gonagall ignored him and continued to shout:

"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Harry's heart sank to his stomach. He never knew of Quidditch being canceled. Not even during a storm. Something horrible must of happened.

At that point, James arrived with Neville and Ron by his side.

"I found Neville and Ron, Professor McGonagall," James said.

"Good. Take them your son to the Hospital Wing," McGonagall said before leaving.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Harry asked. "What happened?"

James perched his lips, as if deciding how to answer Harry's Question. "I think it's better you three see it for yourselves."

…

James led them to the infirmary, staying quiet the whole time.

James pushed the door open and Harry, Ron, and Neville entered.

Madam Pomfrey was bending over a sixth-year girl with long, curly hair. Harry recognized her from his many Hogwarts visits as Penelope Clearwater from Ravenclaw House. Next to her was—

 _"Hermione!"_ Ron groaned.

Hermione lay utterly still, her eyes open and glassy.

"As you can tell, there was another double attack—this time near the library," James said. "For some reason she had this in her hands."

James held up Hermione's communication mirror that she got for Christmas. "What I can guess is she was trying to contact one of you when she was attacked. Did either of you heard from her since breakfast?"

Ron Neville and Harry shook their heads no. James sighed conjured up four seats for them to sit. "Professor McGonagall is letting you three stay here as long as needed, but I have to escort you back before six o'clock."

"six o'clock?" Neville asked.

James nodded. "It's part of the emergency school rules. All students are to return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No students is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. And all further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. And no more evening activities."

Harry was only half-listening as he stared at Hermione. It just seems yesterday Hermione was in here because of some cat hair in the Polyjuice Potion and students were trying to sneak look to see if she was petrified. Now she was back in the infirmary again, only this time she actually was a victim of a monster attack.

 _All right, time to get answers,_ Harry thought.

It wasn't until five that they headed to the Gryffindor Common room. They would have stayed at the infirmary longer, but the new school emergency rules wouldn't allow it.

Inside the common room, students were chattering about finding a way to get Slytherin House thrown out since they were now the only house that was safe from the monster.

They headed to their room since it was only private place in the Common room.

"What're we going to do?" Neville asked.

"They're going to suspect Hagrid is behind this," Ron guessed. "He's the only other person who is connected between the two attacks. The only one with a record against him."

Harry had enough and unlocked and opened his trunk and took out his cloak of invisibility.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Neville asked.

"I'm going to go speak to Hagrid," Harry said. "I still doubt he had something to do with the attacks, but he might have some clues of who did. Don't stop me!"

"We won't, but you have to take us with you," Ron said.

"Guys…"

"Harry, Hermione is our friend too," Neville said. "We want to help find out what happened to her."

Harry nodded.

"But let's wait until everyone gone to bed," Ron said. "It'll be suspicious if we leave now while everyone is awake."

…

It took longer than they thought to leave a Dean and Seamus stayed up longer to talk about the Chamber of Secrets. But once they were in bed, Harry Neville and Ron got dressed again, grab their communication mirrors in case they get separated, and threw the cloak over themselves.

The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors wasn't enjoyable. The corridors were crowded with prefects, teachers, ghost, and of course the Head boy and Head girl. At least the prefects headboy and headgirl that were half-borns and pure-bloods.

As they travel through, Harry counted the number of prefects out. Normally there would be eight prefects—two for each house. But Harry noticed as they dodge every person passing through that even if you don't include Penelope Clearwater, who was in the infirmary petrified, the numbers of prefects were short.

 _They're probably having the Muggle-born prefects keep watch in their common rooms,_ Harry thought. _They're not taking any risk of a fatal attack on a Muggle-Born—not this time._

They barely made it out of the castle without being caught and once on the school grounds, it only took them seconds to reach Hagrid's Hut.

Once they were at the front door, Harry pulled off his cloak and knocked on the door.

Seconds after Harry knocked, Hagrid flung it open and they found themselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at them. Fang the cowardly boarhound barked loudly behind him.

"Oh," he said, lowering the weapon and staring at the three of them. "What're you three doin' here?"

"Why do you have that out?" Harry pointed at the crossbow. The last time Harry saw Hagrid holding it was when they served detention with him in the Forbidden Forest last year.

Other than that, Harry hardly ever knew Hagrid of bringing the crossbow out as he normally favor his pink umbrella—which Harry was the only one who knew that the tip was made from the remains of Hagrid's wand after it was snap in half after Hagrid's expulsion from Hogwarts. Unless of course Hagrid was facing a situation where he can't reveal his umbrella.

"Nothin'—nothin'—" Hagrid muttered. "I've bin expectin'—doesn't matter—Sit down—I'll make some tea—"

Hagrid hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguish the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hands.

"I heard 'bout Hermione, if that's why yer here about," Hagrid said with a break in his voice.

Harry's jaw locked. It wasn't the real reason they were there, but it been on his mind if Hagrid heard about it.

"I heard she had one a two way magical communication mirror," Hagrid said. "I remember when yer father and godfather first showed me those, Harry. It was one of their magical inventions so they could keep in touch even when they were separate detentions. Gave a lot of their teachers grief when they found out as it ruined the purpose of putting the two in separate Detentions. It sure caught many of us surprise, when yer dad was named headboy. But it just show you how much he matured since his trouble makin' days. It sure caught yer mother by surprise."

As Hagrid talk, Harry got the feeling Hagrid change topic to more calm himself down than anything. Hagrid kept glancing at the window. He poured them mugs of boiling water (he forgotten to add the tea bags in his nervousness) and was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate when there was a loud knock on the door.

Hagrid dropped the fruitcake. Harry quickly grabbed his cloak of invisibility and wrap it around him Neville and Ron before they retreated to a corner. Hagrid checked that they were hidden, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.

"Good evening, Hagrid."

"Hello, Hagrid."

It was Dumbledore and James. They entered the hut, Dumbledore looking deadly serious, and James looking like he want to hex someone—which needless to say means he was angry about something.

But they weren't alone, Sirius Black came in after them.

 _Why is Uncle Padfoot here?_ Harry thought.

His question was soon answered as Sirius was soon followed by a third oddly man.

The stranger had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression, and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pinstriped suit like Muggles wears, a scarlet tie, and a long black cloak that indicate he was a wizard, and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carried a lime-green bowler.

"That's dad's boss!" Ron breathed. "Cornelius Fudge, the minister of Magic."

"Grans hates the guy," Neville muttered. "She always said that Fudge is just as bad as the last Minister—he just hid it better."

Harry ended up elbowing his friends to be quiet. The cloak of invisibility made them invisible, but it didn't make their voices silent.

Still, Harry heard his fair share of bad comments about Fudge. His uncles often complained about him and the regulations against werewolves he approved without hesitation. Fudge of course never made the laws, but that doesn't excuse him from treating all werewolves like they're threats twenty-four hours a day seven days a week instead of just once a month.

Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Dumbledore, James, and Fudge.

"Bad business, Hagrid," said Fudge in rather clipped tone. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on muggle-borns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

"This is ridiculous, Fudge!" James snapped. "I keep telling you, you're going after the wrong guy! Hagrid would never hurt a Muggle-Born. Especially Hermione!"

"I got to arrest someone though, James," said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen doing something. Until the actual culprit is caught, we got to take Hagrid."

"Take me? Take me where?" Hagrid asked. "Not Azkaban."

"Yes and no," Sirius said. "You will be taken there Hagrid, but until it's certain you are not the culprit, you would be taken to a separate cell from the rest. Away from the usual prison guards."

"Yes, yes," Fudge said. "As I promised he would be watch by Auror instead of the usual Dementors."

By the sound of it, it sounded to Harry that Sirius manage to pull a favor for Hagrid. One of which Harry don't know if his godfather/uncle would be able to pull again.

Still it didn't ease James' expression one bit but he didn't have time to respond as there was another loud rap at the door.

Dumbledore answered it and Harry struggled not to gasp. He must have failed because both Ron and Neville elbowed him in the ribs.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, swathed in a long black traveling cloak, smiling coldly and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl.

"Already here, Fudge," he said approving. "Good, good…"

"What're you doin' here?" said Hagrid furiously. "Get outta my house!"

"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your—er—d'you call this a house?" said Lucius Malfoy with a sneer looking around the hut.

"Get to the point Lucius," James snapped. "What are you doing here?"

"Very well," Lucius said. "I simply called the school and was told that the headmaster was here."

"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" said Dumbledore politely.

" _Dreadful_ thing, Dumbledore," said Malfoy lazily, taking out a long parchment, "but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension—you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no more Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an _awful_ loss that would be to the school."

"Like you cared what happen to Muggle Borns, Malfoy," James said. "Last I check, you are leading the appeal against protection of those born of Muggles."

"He's right," Sirius said. "The attempts of appeal has even reach us Aurors."

"Now wait one moment!" Fudge said looking alarm. Harry thought for sure Fudge would turn this argument against his dad and uncle, but that wasn't the case. "Dumbledore suspended—no, no—last thing we want just now—"

"The appointment—or suspension—of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy smoothly. "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks—"

"See here, Malfoy, if _Dumbledore_ can't stop them," said Fudge, "I mean to say, who _can_?"

"That remains to be seen," said Mr. Malfoy with a nasty smile. "But as all twelve of us have voted—"

Hagrid leapt to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling.

"An' how many did yeh have ter threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?" he roared.

"Hagrid calm down," Sirius warned.

"Yes, listen too you friend here," Malfoy said nastily. "If it wasn't for his interference up until now, you would already be in Azkaban right now, heavily guarded."

"You can't take Dumbledore!" Hagrid continued. "Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," said Dumbledore sharply as he looked at Lucius Malfpoy. "If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall step aside. However, you will find that I will only _truly_ have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

For a second there Harry saw Dumbledore looking toward his friends and his direction, as if seeing through the cloak of invisibility.

"Professor, please reconsider," James said.

"I leave it to you, Professor Potter, to inform Professor McGonagall that she would be acting headmistress during my absence," Dumbledore said. "And I'm sure she'll agree to leave Gryffindor House in your hands while she's filling my position."

James was speechless after that, as was Harry. Harry just basically watch his dad get promoted to just being an Astronomy Professor of Hogwarts to Temporary Head of Gryffindor house.

"Admiral sentiments," said Malfoy, bowing. "We shall all miss your—er—highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any—ah— _killins_."

He strode to the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Dumbledore out.

"I'll be waiting outside," Fudge said turning to Sirius, "I trust you can keep Hagrid from losing his temper now."

Sirius nodded reluctantly as Fudge headed out.

"Sorry about this Hagrid," Sirius said.

"You got nothing to be sorry for, Padfoot," James said. "From what I understand, you did enough for Hagrid already, and that's all we can ask for. Right, Hagrid?"

Hagrid nodded. "Before I go—if anyone wanted ter find out some _stuff,_ all they have ter do would be ter follow the _spiders_. That'd lead 'em right! An' someone'll need ter feed Fang while I'm away. I'll trust you'll do that James?"

"Sure thing," James said.

"Then that's all I'm saying."

With that, Sirius led Hagrid out to meet up with Fudge. James stayed back to get Fang some food before leaving.

When the door banged shut and Harry pulled off the Invisibility cloak.

"Hagrid's not lying," Ron said. "Without Dumbledore, the attacks will increased."

"Only this time there would be deaths." Neville said.

Harry nodded as even he knew it was the truth. Just when Harry thought things couldn't get worse after today, things just got worse.


	15. Hagrid's Pet Spider is Huge

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **Hagrid's Pet Spider is Huge**

Summer was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cabbages burst into bloom in the greenhouses. But with no Hagrid visible from the castle windows, striding the grounds with Fang at his heels, the scene didn't look right to Harry; no better, in fact than the inside of the castle, where things were so horribly wrong.

With Dumbledore gone, Madam Pomphrey has denied any visitations in the infirmary, so Harry Ron and Neville couldn't visit Hermione. As much as it annoy him, Harry understood why as Pomphrey wasn't taking any risk of an attack on those already petrified.

Professor McGonagall took her position as temporary Headmistress, and agreed to make James temporary Head of Gryffindor house to ease some of the work now left in her hands. Which is a good thing because with the attacks going on.

Due to the emergency rules, Astronomy was temporarily moved to day time instead of midnight. It was sort of a relief for James as it meant he won't have to sleep in, but it also means his students won't be studying the stars through a telescope. So instead James focus on the magical elements of Astronomy and how it effect the magical world.

Normally that would make Harry happy, as it mean he get more than the afternoon time to see his dad, but his mind been on Dumbledore's words: _"I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me… help will always be given at Hogwart to those who ask for it."_

Like everyone else who knew about it, Harry couldn't make heads or tails out of it. Only thing was, Harry had a gut feeling that the answer will only reveal itself when Harry least expects it.

Hagrid's hint about the spiders would have been helpful too, if it wasn't for the fact that the spiders that seem to show up when they least expect it has mysteriously disappeared. Harry and Neville had tried to keep an eye out for the line of spiders, but none showed up. It didn't help that they had to be escorted by teachers from and to classes.

Only person who seemed enjoying what was going on was Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was strutting around the school as though he had just been appointed Head boy. He was gloating one day in potions how his father got rid of Dumbledore and how Professor McGonagall won't last long and making bets of who would be the first muggle-born to die.

Fortunately, the bell rang as Harry and Neville had to hold Ron back.

"Hurry up, I've got to take you all to herbology," Snape barked.

Even with Snape escorting them, Neville and Harry didn't let go of Ron until they were out of the castle and making their way across the vegetable patch toward the greenhouses.

With Hermione and Justin petrified herbology felt more subdue than before. And with the Mandrakes now old enough that it was too risky for second years to work with them, they worked on prunnin Abyssinian Shrivelfigs.

Down one partner, Harry Ron and Neville found themselves working with Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, who volunteered to help them, which Harry had no clue why until Ernie spoke up quietly but formally when he had the chance.

"I just want to say, Harry, that I'm sorry I ever suspected you. I know you'd never attack Hermione Granger, and I apologize for all the stuff I said. Especially about your dad," Ernie said.

"It's okay. You were just scared for your friends," Harry responded. "Too be honest, when I first found out I was a Parseltongue, I was scared that it would mean I'll become a dark wizard too. That's the reason I didn't go showing it off every chance I got and only told my closest friends."

Ernie nodded. "Still, I wonder who the heir of Slytherin is."

"You and the rest of the school," Harry responded.

At that moment Harry spotted something.

Several large spiders were scuttling over the ground on the other side of the glass, moving in an un-naturally straight line—straight to the Forbidden Forest.

 _Follow the Spiders,_ Harry remember Hagrid advised.

Harry choose not to bring it up to his friends until after Herbology as they were escorted to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"The Forbidden Forest?" Ron asked. "Are you sure? Maybe they were heading to the shrieking shack."

"I'm positive they were heading to the Forbidden Forest," Harry said.

They took their places at the back of Lockhart' classroom. Lockhart bounded into the room and the class stared at him. Every other teacher in the place was looking grimmer than usual, but Lockhart appeared nothing short of buoyant.

 _Of course, whatever secret Dumbledore might have had over Lockhart is useless now,_ Harry remembered.

"Come now," he cried, beaming around him. "Why all the long faces?"

People swapped exasperated looks, but nobody answered.

"Don't you people realized," said Lockhart, speaking slowly, as though they were all a bit dim, "the danger has passed! The culprit has been taken away—"

"Says who?" said Dean Thomas loudly.

"My dear young man, the Minister of Magic wouldn't have taken Hagrid if he hadn't been one hundred percent sure that he was guilty," said Lockhart, in the tone of someone explaining that one and one make two.

Harry wanted to put this guy in a full body bind curse and punch his lights out, but he held it back as Lockhart started class by claiming how he always suspected him.

Harry scrawled a note and pass it to Neville and Ron: _Let's do it tonight. After everyone is asleep._

Neville nodded but Ron looked like as if a vampire has drained the blood out of his system leaving him deadly pale. Harry knew how much spiders scared Ron but they needed this information.

…

Harry Ron and Neville waited until everyone has gone to bed, just like before. Harry had his cloak of invisibility ready for time needed. As they waited, Harry suggested playing a game of Wizards Chess to pass the time, which Neville and Ron reluctantly agreed to.

Ever since their life size version of Wizard Chess last year, playing a normal size game of it had lost some of its amusement. But it was the only thing they can do that won't take up too much time and they can quickly put up as soon as everyone has gone to bed.

Harry and Ron started off as Neville (who will be playing winner) watch along with Ginny—who was very subdue in Hermione's usual chair. After a few rounds and everyone else has gone to bed Harry tried invite Ginny to play with them. Mostly because Harry figured she might go to bed earlier after playing a few games, but partly because it didn't seem right seeing Ginny sitting their quietly like that.

"I'm too tired. I think I'll go to bed instead," Ginny responded before heading up.

"Well, that went better than I hoped," Ron said before declaring the final move that checkmated Neville's king after the last door they heard closed.

Harry took out his cloak and threw it over them.

The journey out of the castle wasn't much easier than the last time, but they manage to sneak pass all of the teachers and out of the castle without any troubles.

"Let's start with Hagrid's house," Harry said, remembering the Spider from Tom Riddles' diary. It was a long shot, but Harry had hoped that Hagrid might be hinting his pet spider from his hogwart years.

Ron and Neville didn't argue as they followed Harry to Hagrid's hut. At first Harry was worried that the lack of light would help them, but fortunately they did find a couple of spiders heading to the trees away from any light.

"Let's get Fang," Harry said, "He might be able to track them better in the dark."

They quickly went to Hagrid's hut and when Harry opened the door, Fang jumped on them and licked all of them.

"Well your dad was here," Neville pointed to the food laid out for Fang.

"Come on, Fang, we need your help," Harry said, panting his leg. "You want to help us track spiders, boy?"

The dog barked in agreement and charged out the door.

It turned out a good thing Fang came because the moment they entered the Forbidden forest, things got too dark for them to see. They followed Fang's once in a while barking. The only bright side was that since Ron couldn't see the spiders, he wasn't as terrified as usual.

"Hey Harry, I think we're going off trail," Neville said. "I don't recognized any of this area."

"How can you tell?" Ron asked. "I can't see a thing."

Fang barked ahead of them.

"We should go," Harry said. "Otherwise we'll loose Fang, and I rather not explain to my dad why Fang is missing."

Neville and Ron nodded and followed Harry.

Just then Fang stopped. Harry knew because he tripped over the huge boarhound.

"Fang what the—"

"Uh, Harry," Neville said.

But Neville didn't have time to respond as something swoop down, grabbed Harry Neville and Ron, and carried them off.

Harry had no idea what grabbed them exactly, but by the feeling of it's legs, it had fuzzy long legs.

 _Spiders,_ Harry guessed. _Giant spiders._

It was the only thing that make sense. They were chasing spiders and now they caught them.

Then, as suddenly as it grab them. The spiders dropped the three of them into a clearing in the forest where the moon light shone through, revealing the place covered in web with a dome in front of them.

Harry Ron and Neville scrambled to their feet as Fang—who had been apparently following them—ran up to them.

Harry took out his wand, ready to cast any spell that came to his mind, but the Spiders seem to have lost interest in them as it called: "Aragog! Aragog!"

And from the middle of the misty, domed web, a spider the size of a small elephant emerged, very slowly. There was gray in the black of his body and legs, and each of the eyes on his ugly, pincered head was milky white. He was blind.

"What is it?" he said, clicking his pincers rapidly.

"Men," clicked the spider.

"Is it Hagrid?" said Aragog, moving closer, his eight milky eyes wandering vaguely.

"We're friends of Hagrid," Harry responded. "He told us to find you if we need answers."

Aragog paused. "Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before, not even for answers." He said slowly.

"It's about the Chamber of Secrets," Harry said. "It's been open again, and they arrested Hagrid because they think he done it."

Aragog clicked his pincers. "Arrogant men. They blame Hagrid for history repeating itself instead of searching for the real culprit. They blamed me too."

That's when Harry realized he seen Aragog before—during his memory trip in Tom Riddle's Diary.

"You were that spider," Harry said. "The one Tom Riddle accused as the monster."

"That was a lie! A false accusation!" Aragog said. "I had nothing to do with the attacks fifty years ago. I wasn't even born in the castle. I come from a distant land. A traveler gave me to Hagrid when I was an egg. Hagrid was only a boy, but he cared for me and kept me hidden and fed. I was not the monster that attacked the girl in the bathroom."

"I believe you," Harry said.

"You do?" Neville squeaked. He and Ron were frozen in fear at the spider.

"I do," Harry said. "But if Hagrid send us to you—that must mean you know something about the monster that did attack those people or at least the Heir of Slytherin that controls it."

There was clicking and rustling from many spiders that surrounded them.

"Very well," Aragog said. "I'm not sure who the heir would be this time as I heard he been vanquished, but I do know that the monster that live in the castle is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others. We do not speak it, however, and we do not name it."

After he said that, Aragog started backing up slowly into his dome web. Sadly the other spiders didn't follow his example as they inched closer to Harry and his friends.

"Well, thank you for the information," Harry said. "We'll be leaving now."

"Leaving?" said Arogog slowly. "I think not. My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Good-be friends of Hagrid."

The spiders formed a wall around them.

Harry reached for the wand and used the only spell that came to his mind that came to his mind—the one Hermione used on the pixies during their first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Immobulus!" Harry yelled.

A light flashed from Harry's wand and surrounded the spiders as they froze from their spots. However Harry could hear from the clicking sounds that not all of them were frozen.

"Fang, lead us back to Hagrid's hut," Harry said. "Ron Neville, come on."

They didn't hesitate as Fang took the lead guiding them through the forest.

Not too long later they could hear the clicking sounds of spiders following them.

By time they reached a path, or what they can guess was a path, the clicking got souder as the spiders got closer.

Harry tripped over a root.

"Harry!" Neville and Ron said stopping to help him up. But it was too late as the first spider came into their view despite the darkness.

But before the spider could attack, there was a familiar galloping sound as a centaur burst out of the trees and trampled the thing.

"You're in centaur territory, wretched creatures!" said the centaur in a familiar voice. "So unless you want to have a heard of centaurs trampling you, stay back!"

As hungry as the spiders were, Harry guess none were dumb enough to face a heard of centaurs as the sounds of clicking retreated.

Harry turned to see the centaur and his jaw dropped open.

"FIRENZE!"

It was indeed the very same Centaur that saved Harry the last time he was in the Forbidden forest.

"Hello, Harry Potter and friends," Firenze greeted.

"How—The last time I saw you, you said you couldn't help us," Harry said.

"I understand your confusion, and indeed I wouldn't have been able too if those wretched spiders hadn't followed you to centaur territory," Firenze said. "However, I recommend you and your friend leave before my ken find out that I saved you in the process."

Harry nodded as Neville and Ron got up. "Thanks again, Firenze. I owe you two now."

With that they left the forest, with Fang guiding us.

Ron didn't speak until they were out of the forest.

"Follow the spiders!" Ron complained. "I'll never forgive Hagrid. We're lucky Firenze showed up otherwise we would be dead! I bet he didn't think Aragog would hurt us. What was the point of sending us there?"

"I don't know," Harry said. Which was the truth. All Aragog told them was what they already suspected: that Hagrid was innocent. But they still have no idea who the real culprit is, or what the monster was.

 _Just that the culprit supposedly vanished, and that the spiders fear the monster._ Harry thought.

They covered themselves with the Invisibility cloak and made their way back to Gryffindor tower. Once in their rooms they each collapsed into their own beads without getting dress.

However, Harry wasn't able to sleep as he laid out on his bed. Something else was on his mind.

 _A girl died in the girl's bathroom,_ Harry thought to himself.

He been visiting Hogwarts since he was little, and aware of every bathroom in the castle. And the only one occupied by a ghost that Harry knew of that died in it was—

"Myrtle!" Harry whispered as he slapped himself on the forehead. "I'm so stupid."

* * *

 **A/N:** I had to improvise on what saved Harry and his friends since The Weasley family car wouldn't be in the Forbidden Forest due to the fact Harry and Ron used a Portkey to get to Hogsmeade so they can be escorted to Hogwarts.


	16. The Chamber of Secrets

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **The Chambers of Secrets**

As much as Harry want to blame this on someone or something else, the fact that he didn't think of the fact that Myrtle might of known the location of the chamber of secrets was all on him.

Heck, Myrtle told him herself how she died.

Well, not completely.

It was after Harry first met Myrtle when he was younger. Myrtle had finally stopped to realize that Harry wasn't planning to tease her and started wanting to spend time with him. Finally, after a few friendly conversations, Harry had the courage to ask Myrtle how she died.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in my bathroom. I died in the very stall I haunt. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a _boy_ speaking. So I unlock the door, to tell him to go and use his own toiled, and then—" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I died."

At the time Harry didn't think much of it back then. Mostly because it wasn't the strangest story he heard of how someone died from a ghost. But now Harry feel stupid for not realizing it sooner.

The next morning Harry relay it to Ron and Neville on their way to the Great Hall

"Are you saying we went through _all_ that trouble, and you had the biggest clue to what we're looking for all this time!" Ron said.

"Not exactly… Myrtle never told me what attacked her," Harry said.

"If only Hermione was around," Neville muttered. "She might have some answers."

"If she did, we can't get it now." Ron said.

Harry frowned. What they said is true, but Harry can't help but shake this feeling that they are still missing something. Why did Hermione had her communication mirror out if she wasn't going to contact them? Why hasn't there been any deaths in the previous attacks?

"We need to go see Hermione again," Harry said.

"Harry, Madam Pomphrey won't let us." Ron reminded him

"Then we'll get my dad or Professor McGonagall to help us out," Harry said. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm getting this feeling we're missing an important clue to the monster."

"And you think Hermione might have the answer on her?" Neville asked.

"I don't know, but it wouldn't hurt to check," Harry said. "We can find out during lunch."

Sadly, visiting Hermione was the last thing on their mind. Despite the attacks, the exams were to continue on schedule, which basically threw Ron and Neville into a panic as they came to depend on Hermione to help keep their schedules for exams after last year. Harry was worried too, but he didn't panic like his friends as he tried to help them out with the classes he's best at, which unfortunately was only Charms, Transfigurations, Astrology, and surprisingly enough Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ron even had a few incidents in the common room where Ron grabbed his broken wand instead of his new one to master a spell.

It wasn't until three days before the exams their thoughts were snap back to the idea visiting Hermione when Professor McGonagall made her announcements during breakfast.

"Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."

There was an explosion of cheering from every table except—of course—Slytherin table.

"I guess we can wait until Hermione wakes up to find out what she knows," Ron said.

Just then, Ginny Weasley came over and sat down next to run. She looked tense and nervous, and Harry noticed that her hands were twisting in her lap—which reminded Harry of Dobby when he was scared.

"What's up?" said Ron helping himself to more porridge.

Ginny didn't say anything, but glanced up and down the Gryffindor table with a scared look on her face that reminded Harry more and more of Dobby. She even started rocking backward and forward slightly in her chair, just like Dobby when he was teetering on the edge of revealing forbidden information.

"What's wrong Ginny?" Harry asked.

Ginny was lost for words. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Harry never seen Ginny like this before, and it made him concern.

At that moment Percy Weasley showed up, looking tired and wan.

"If you've finish eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny. I'm starving. I've only just come off patrol duty."

Ginny jumped up as though her chair had just been electrified and scampered away. Percy sat down and grabbed a mug from the center of the table.

"Percy," said Ron angrily. "She was just about to tell us what been wrong with her."

"Oh—really?" Percy asked. "Did she say anything?"

"No. You showed up before she could," Harry said.

"Oh—well, sorry," Percy said. "Pass me those rolls, Neville. I'm starving."

…

Harry wished to say the rest of the day went better, but after Ginny left, Harry started having a bad feeling that something was about to go wrong once more and that he need to find out what Hermione might have found out more than ever. It didn't help that Lockhart spend his class bragging about how he was right about Hagrid.

"Mark my words" he said, ushering them around the corner. "The first words out of those poor petrified people's mouths will be _'It was Hagrid.'_ Frankly, I'm astounded that Professor McGonagall thinks all of this security measures are necessary."

It was until after History of Magic Harry decided to take chance to see Hermione, which was a good thing too. Since their History of Magic Professor is taught by a ghost, normally the Head of House—if available—would escort the students, and in this case James did as he escorted the class to Gryffindor Common Room.

"Alright, everyone in!" James said.

"Dad, before we go in, can you do my friends and me a favor," Harry said.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Ron whispered, only to be elbowed.

"It depends, kiddo. It doesn't require making exceptions to the rules, does it?" James asked

"No, dad. It's just…" Harry said. "We haven't been able to see Hermione since Dumbledore was suspended, and we would like to be able to visit her one more time before she wakes up. So that we can tell her that at least we were able to visit her more than once while she was in the hospital wing."

James studied Harry for a bit, as if trying to find out if this was lie. Fortunately for Harry it wasn't as James smiled.

"Sure thing kiddo," James said. "I'll have to get it run pass Professor McGonagall, but I think she would be fine. Come on you three."

…

James was correct when he said McGonagall would be fine with it. In fact, Professor McGonagall took over from there to take the boys to see Hermione since Madam Pomphrey will more likely let them in with her permission than James since she was acting headmistress.

"Very well," Madam Pomphrey sighed as she let them in. "I don't see the point of it since they will be awake tomorrow, though."

Madam Pomphrey left the area to give them some privacy, only being right outside incase something happened.

"I really don't see the point of this, Harry," Ron said. "Hermione will be awake tomorrow and she can tell us everything then."

"Just trust me, Ron," Harry said. "Whatever information Hermione might have on what attacked her, we need to find out now. Neville, keep watch."

Neville nodded as Harry got to work, starting with Hermione's right hand that lay clench on top of her blanket. At first glance it look like Hermione was just clenching her fist like that when she was attack, but when Harry got a closer look, he saw a piece of paper was crunched up in it

"Ron! Neville!" Harry pointed to the pointed it out.

"Let's try to get it out," Ron said.

They worked together to get the piece of paper free, which wasn't easy as Hermione's hand was clamp tight around it—as if she was keeping it from someone or something. Whatever it was, Harry was certain it must be important for Hermione to have a tight grip over it.

Finally, Harry manage to get it free.

It was a page torn from a very old library book. Harry smoothed it out eagerly and Ron and Neville leaned close to read it, too.

 _Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundred year, is born from a chicken' egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its method of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fang, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it._

And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a handwriting Harry recognized as Hermione's. _Pipes._

It was as though somebody had just flicked a light in Harry's brain as he felt stupid for not noticing the signs earlier.

"Ron, Neville," Harry breathed. "This is the answer. The monster in in the Chamber's a basilisk—a giant snake! That's why I can hear it—because I understand Parseltongue."

Neville read over the paper and looked over at the other occupied beds. "But Harry, if this is right, why no one is dead yet."

Harry answered by nodding toward Hermione's communication mirror. "Because no one looked it directly in the eyes. The Basilisk burned up all the film inside Collin' Camera, but Collin was petrified. Justin must have saw the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but you can't kill what's already dead. Hermione must have been with Penelope and was about to communicate with us when she saw the basilisk through her mirror but she must have been attacked before she could get through. And because she wasn't able to contact us, we didn't have mirrors out when it happened, which is why none of us is petrified."

"What about Mrs. Norris?" Ron asked. "I find it odd that a cat would be carrying a mirror or camera around, Harry. Unless of course she was an animagus. And there was no ghost around to save her like Justin."

Harry thought of it for a second. "Actually, there was… not intentionally though. Remember the flood from Myrtle's bathroom. I bet you Mrs. Norris was there to see the results and was about to tell Filch when she saw the Basilisk' reflection in the water from the flood caused by one of Myrtle's crying."

Harry scanned over the paper once more. _"The Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it!_ " he read aloud. "Hagrid told me his roosters were killed right before I found Justin and Nick. The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber as opened! _'Spiders flee before the basilisk!'_ That part goes with what Aragog told us about the monster. It all fits. Look, Hermione even figured out how it been traveling without being noticed by everyone: the pipes. It been using the school's plumbing. That's why I been hearing it's voice in the walls. And I bet you the entrance to the chamber is in Myrtle's bathroom since that's where she died."

"Harry, if you're right, we need to take this to your dad," Neville said.

"Right, let's go," Harry said.

However, they barely got out the door when Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the corridors as if magically magnified.

 _"All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staffroom immediately."_

"Please tell me this is not what I think it is," Ron said.

"We got to hurry." Harry pulled out his cloak of invisibility.

He covered them both and they quickly snuck into the staff room. Fortunately, there were still teachers heading in as they snuck behind Professor Sprout into the room and hid in the corner, quietly. James was the second to the last person to arrive, followed by Professor McGonagall who closed the door behind her.

'The Heir of Slytherin," said Professor McGonagall, who was very white, "left another message. Right underneath the first one. _'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever._ "

Professor Flitwick burst into tear.

'who is it?" said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. "which student?"

"Ginny Weasley," said Professor McGonagall.

Harry and Neville had to sink down with the cloak as Ron couldn't stand anymore.

"T-that can't be," James said. "I thought the monster only go after Muggle-borns! Why did it go after Ginny?"

"I don't know," McGonagall said. "But it came to be clear that no witch or wizard is safe in Hogwarts anymore. We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow. This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said…"

The staffroom door banged open as Lockhart came in beaming.

"So sorry—dozed off—what have I missed."

Every teacher in the room was staring at him with hatred but it was James who act.

"You lousy, no good, poor excuse of a wizard" James growled. "Your office was the closest one from the scene! You could have heard something! Why didn't you do something to stop it?"

"Professor Potter, calm down," McGonagall said, although she didn't seem to disagree with him.

"Whoa, what's going on?" Lockhart asked.

"Ginny! She was snatched by the monster!" James said. "If you haven't spending so much time praising yourself and accusing Hagrid, you could have saved her!"

"I'm sorry. I-it must of happened during my nap," Lockhart said.

James looked like he was about to hit Lockhart with the strongest spell he knew. Then Snape stood up.

"Now, now, Potter," Snape said. "Perhaps there's a way for Lockhart to restore his good name by stepping forward."

Lockhart blanched as was Harry. Hardly ever had he seen Snape say something calming to his dad. Not unless it came with an insult. Those two were considered the excellent example of the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor House. And yet, Snape actually looked and sounded like he was on equal grounds with his dad.

"That's right, Gilderoy," chipped in Professor Sprout. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I—well, I—" sputtered Lockhart.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" piped up Professor Flitwick.

"D-did I? I don't recall—"

"I certainly remember you were saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," said Snape. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

Lockhart started around his stony-colleagues faces, silently pleading for help.

"We'll leave everything to you, Gilderoy," McGonagall said. "And tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone' out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster by yourself. A free rein at last."

Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to his rescue. His lip trembled as he realized his charms had finally let him down.

"V-very well," he said. "I'll—I'll be in my office, getting—getting ready."

And he left the room.

"You know he's just going to run away and not lift a finger to save Ginny, right?" James said.

"Either way, he's one less pain to deal with," McGonagall said. "The Head of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories."

The teachers rose and left, one by one.

…

It was a miracle that Harry Ron and Neville made it back to Gryffindor tower before James came with the announcements, but it only made them feel worse for it.

James gave each of the Weasley siblings a formal apology for not being there to save Ginny and told Percy not to worry about owling their parents as he had already send one—which is why it took him so long to arrive at the tower.

"Thanks professor," Percy said.

"No problem, Percy," James said. "You and your siblings been part of my family just as Harry been part of yours ever since Harry and Ron first became friends, and I wish I could have done something to stop this."

James wasn't the only one taking the fact he couldn't stop Ginny's kidnapping hard. Harry and Neville were taking it just as hard too. But they weren't able to talk about it until after everyone else gone to bed around midnight.

"Ginny must have known about something," Neville said. "Why else would she be scared. It could also explain her strange behavior all year."

"Harry," said Ron. "D'you think there's any chance at all she's not—you know—"

"I—I don't know," Harry shook his head. "I really don't, Ron."

There was a moment in silence between the three of them.

"D'you know what?" said Ron. "I think we should go and see Lockhart. Tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is, and tell him it's the basilisk in there."

"Ron, no offense, but you heard my dad in the staff room," Harry snapped. "Lockhart isn't going to do anything but run away."

"Then we'll force him to help us," Ron said. "I'm not about to sit here and wait for the inevitable."

"He's right, Harry. We can't just sit here, and if we go to your dad, you know he would try to stop us," Neville said, "Plus, his office is along the way to Myrtle's bathroom."

Harry breathed a sigh. "All right. We'll do it. But we should bring our communication mirrors for safety precautions. That way if the Basilisk sneaks up on us, at least there's a chance we'll only be petrified. Also, Ron, bring your broken wand incase Lockhart tries something sneaky."

Ron was confused at first but didn't argue against Harry.

 _And who knows, maybe I'll find out what kind of secret Dumbledore was trying to get out of Lockhart,_ Harry thought.

…

Fortunately, no one stopped them as they snuck out of Gryffindor tower, and it was actually easier to walk to Lockhart's office since now the prefects were staying in the common rooms now.

However, despite the gloominess of the castle, they could hear a lot of activity coming from Lockhart's office. They could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps.

"At least we know Lockhart is still here," Neville said.

"Just remember to act like we weren't in the staffroom during the meeting and not aware of Lockhart's true intentions until it's necessary," Harry said.

If it was any other teacher, it would be easier said than done. But since it was Lockhart, they weren't too worried.

Harry knocked and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Lockhart's eyes peering through it.

"Oh—Mr. Potter—Mr. Longbottom—Mr. Weasley—" he said, opening the door a bit wider. I'm rather busy at the moment—if you would be quick—"

"Professor, we heard you are going after the monster, and we got some information that can help you face it," Harry said. "It might even help you survive."

"Er—well—it's not terribly—" the side of Lockhart's face that they could see looked very uncomfortable. "I mean—well—all right—"

He opened the door and they entered.

His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes, jade-green, lilac, midnight-blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

Harry put up a confused look, but he had expected this. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Er, well, ye," said Lockhart, ripping a life size poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke and starting to roll it up. "Urgent call—unavoidable—got to go—"

"What about my sister?" said Ron jerkily.

"Well, as to that—most unfortunate—" said Lockhart, avoiding their eyes and he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I—"

"You are the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" Neville said. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

"Well—I must say—when I took the job—" Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. "nothing in the job description—didn't expect—"

"Are you scared?" Harry asked. "After all that big talk and all that stuff you did in your books—"

"Books can be misleading," said Lockhart delicately. "You should know Mr. Potter. How many books mention about your mother's sacrifice saving you—"

"But you wrote those books!" Harry argued. "Weren't they from your own adventures?"

"My dear boy," said Lockhart, straightening up and frowning at Harry. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think _I'd_ done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old American warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a hairy chin. I mean, come on—"

That's when it clicked in Harry's mind. Why Dumbledore hired this guy? Dumbledore must have known the truth.

"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people done?" said Neville in shock.

"That's illegal," Ron said. "Harry should just report you to his uncle right now!"

"Ron, Ron," said Lockhart, shaking his head impatiently. "You really think you are the first person to threaten to turn me in? Please! Every one of those people I tracked down and got the story from did. But I dodge it every time by putting a simple Memory charm on them." Lockhart banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked and pulled his wand out on Ron. "Now, I'll have to put a memory charm on you three boys."

 _"Silencio! Expelliarmus!"_

Two bright lights shot from Harry's wand and hit Lockhart and not only disarm him of his wand, which flew into Harry's hands, but silence him.

"You're lucky we still need your help, otherwise I'll break your wand right now and turn you as the fraud you are. But we'll be keeping this until you need it."" Harry said as he pocketed Lockhart's wand. "Now, are you going to come with us or do I have to put a full body bind curse on you and force you to come with us," Harry said.

Lockhart tried to speak only to remember he couldn't. fortunately, Harry had an idea what he was going to say.

"Don't worry about not knowing the location. We already have an idea of the location and I'm just so happen to be good friends with the only ghost who can confirm," Harry said. "We also just so happen to know what the monster is and know how to defend ourselves against it. Now let's go!"

They marched Lockhart out of the office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages shone on the wall, to the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

They sent Lockhart in first, to make sure there wasn't anyone living in there, and then headed in themselves.

"Myrtle! It's Harry! I need your help with something!" Harry yelled.

Myrtle speared above the tank of her toilet. "Oh, hello Harry. How may I help you?"

"Remember when you told me how you died?" Harry asked.

"I already told you what I remember, Harry," Myrtle said. "I was here crying after being teased when I heard a boy speaking in a foreign language and came out to tell him 'Go away' and I died."

"I know, but we need more information, Myrtle. Like what you might have saw just before you died," Harry said.

"Please Myrtle!" Ron begged. "My sister's life is at stake. She could be killed by the same thing that killed you."

Harry had hoped that was enough to convince Myrtle. Normally, most ghost who died horrifically don't want anyone else die the same way as them. But Myrtle wasn't just your average ghost. In life and after death she hardly had friends and rarely show sympathy to anyone who is at the verge of death. Because of it Harry was the first and only living person Myrtle was actually socialable around.

Fortunately, to Harry's relief, Myrtle sighed. "Very well. I don't know exactly what killed me, but I do remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away… until I decided to come back to haunt Olive Hornby."

"Who?" Neville asked.

"The girl that teased Myrtle the same day she died," Harry said. "Myrtle, one more question—where did you see the eyes?"

"Somewhere there," said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.

"Neville, watch Lockhart," Harry said.

Neville nodded as Ron hurried with Harry to the sink to examine it. Everything looked like your typical sink, but after closer inspection, Harry saw it: scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake.

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle brightly as Harry tried to turn it on.

"Harry," said Ron. "Say something in Parseltongue."

"But I don't know how I do it," Harry said. "Every time I did there was a snake."

"Then imagine the snake on the tap is real," Ron said. "Like the one Malfoy conjured up. Or better yet, the snake you talk to at the zoo last year before we started Hogwarts."

It was worth a shot.

Harry imagined the scratched picture was the Boa Constrictor at the zoo—who didn't seem evil or out to kill anyone as it laid around in its tank.

"Open up!" Harry said—which came out in a strange hissing sound that he guess was snake language.

The tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sigh, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a full grown man to slide through.

"Alright," Harry said with a deep breath turning to his friends. "Let's go save Ginny!"

Ron and Neville nodded, not arguing against it.

"Well, you hardly need me," said Lockhart, with a shadow of his old smile. "I'll just—"

Neville was quicker as he poked Lockhart with his wand.

"Nice try Lockhart, but you're going first." Harry said. "Ron!"

Ron nodded and took out his mirror and gave it to Lockhart.

"If the monster is down there, you can use that to look indirectly in the eyes if you have too. You'll be petrified, but not killed and we'll send a teacher down to get you," Harry explained. "If it's not there, you can use it to contact us to give us the all clear."

"You boys really planned this out, haven't you?" Lockhart asked.

Harry shrugged. "I do have Ravenclaw wisdom and Slytherin Cunning personality. Now go!"

Lockhart reluctantly headed toward the tube and jumped down. Harry Ron and Neville waited for a while as Harry took out the mirror. Sure enough Lockhart's face appeared on the mirror although he seem to be covered in slime and white as a ghost. "That was really disgusting boys."

"It's clear," Harry said.

Harry jumped in next, then Ron, finally Neville.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. More pipes that were smaller than the one they were in kept brushing against Harry as he slide through the main tube.

And then they hit solid ground. The pipe leveled out, and he shot out the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark tunnel large enough to stand in. Lockhart was getting to his feet a little way away—probably up to his tricks. Harry stood aside as Ron came whizzing out of the pipe and a soon as Ron manage to get out of the way, so did Neville.

"We must be miles under the school," said Harry, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake probably," said Neville.

They headed through the tunnel. Once in a while they come across a litter of rat bones. Some of the bones looked more ancient than others.

Harry tried not to think of them as they were a reminder of what they might find up ahead other than the Basilisk.

"Harry—there's something up there—" said Ron hoarsely, grabbing Harry's shoulder.

They froze, watching. Harry could see the outline of something huge and curved, lying across the tunnel. It wasn't moving—and it didn't look alive.

Harry frowned as he raised his hand to grab it.

"Harry, don't!" Neville said.

But it was too late as Harry grabbed it and yank down. When he did a giant snake skin came toppling down. Lockhart fainted when Harry did that.

"Snake skin," Harry said. "It's just snake skin."

"Get up" said Ron poking Lockhart with his broken wand, hoping that it would give Lockhart a boil if he did that

Lockhart got to his feet—then he dived at Ron, knocking him to the ground. Then he stood up, holding Ron's wand in his hand and a gleaming smile back on his face.

"The Adventure ends here, boys!" he said. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you three _tragically_ lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body—say good-bye to your memories!"

He raised Ron's old broken wand over his head and yelled, _"Obliviate!"_

As Harry expected, Ron's wand back fired. The reason Harry told Ron to bring the wand was incase something like this happened. But what Harry didn't expect was that the wand exploded with the force of a small muggle bomb.

Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of ceiling that were thundering to the floor. The next moment, he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock.

Harry quickly took out his mirror. "RON! NEVILLE! ARE YOU OKAY?"

There was coughing and shuffling as the image came to view showing Neville.

"We're fine!" Neville said.

"No thanks to Lockhart," Ron said followed by a groaning sound.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Ron just kicked Lockhart in the shins," Neville said. "What now? We can't get through—it'll take ages to get through."

Harry looked up at the tunnel ceiling. Huge cracks had appeared in it. If they blast their way through, they might cause another explosion. Neville was right, it would take too long to get through, and Ginny might not have that much time left.

"You guys stay where you are at with Lockhart," Harry said. "Try to shift some of the rocks around, but don't blast through. I'll go find Ginny."

Neville nodded. "Good luck, Harry."

And with that, Harry set off alone past the giant snake skin. Soon the distant noise of Neville and Ron was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Harry's body was tingling unpleasantly as he didn't have much expectations of what's ahead of him.

Even if Harry contact his dad, with the tunnel caved in behind him, Harry didn't know if his dad will find a way through it. So Harry continued on his own.

Finally, Harry reached a solid black wall with two entwined serpents carved. Their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

Harry took a shaky breath and stepped forward, imagining the snakes were alive—which wasn't hard as they look real.

 _"Open,"_ said Harry, in a low, faint hiss.

The serpents parted and the wall cracked open, the haves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry walked inside.


	17. Harry Slays the Basilisk

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **Harry Slays the Basilisk**

Even in a dimly lit chamber, Harry was able to find Ginny with ease.

The chamber had towering stone pillar entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

Harry had his wand out in one hand. He had put his mirror back in his pocket a while back, not wanting to risk relying on it. If he was to be petrified, no one would be able to get to him. It didn't help that the stone statue of snakes seem to be following him.

Ahead of him was a statue of a wizard with an ancient monkeyish face with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, face down, lay a small figure with flaming-red hair wearing black robes that were slightly big on her.

"Ginny!" Harry rushed over to her side, dropping to his knees. "Ginny—don't be dead—please don't be dead." He put his wand up in it's holster and grab Ginny's shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't petrified.

"Ginny, please wake up," Harry desperately shook Ginny, only for her head to roll from side to side.

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

Harry jumped and spun around on his knees.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar. Watching. He was strangely blurred from the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window. But still Harry was able to recognize him.

"Tom Riddle?" Harry asked.

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry said. "She's not—she's not—"

"She's still alive, but barely," said Riddle.

Something about Tom Riddle was off. He had to be at least over sixty years old considering he was a student fifty years ago, and yet there he stood, no younger than he was during his memory. Then there was that misty glow—that's not something found in ghost or polterguiste."

"How are you still—"

"Still here? So young?" Riddle asked quietly. "To put it simply, what you see is more of a memory. Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

Riddle pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open was the little black diary.

Harry turned to see that Tom had something in his hands now and was twirling it.

Lockhart's wand.

Harry reached for his pocket where he kept the wand only to find it missing.

"You dropped this when you sprinted to your friend," Riddle explained. "I take it it's not yours."

"Tom, we can't stay here," Harry said. "Ginny needs urgent medical help and the Basilisk—"

"—won't come until it is called," said Riddle calmly with a smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

Harry lowered Ginny back to the ground, unable to hold her up any longer, and took out his wand. "What d'you mean?"

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," said Riddle. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you. But I'm guessing you first want to know how Ginny ended up like this."

Harry didn't respond, but Tom continued.

"It's quite a long story, actually. I supposed the real reason Ginny Weasley like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger in _my_ diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, some of the sad stuff like how some of her roommates teased her about how she was from a poor wizard family, and some of the good stuff, like how her youngest older brother's best friend gave her his mother's old school supplies that looked almost brand-new. It was rather boring really, having to listen to the silly little girl, and her everyday life. But I saw some of her sad stories as an opportunity. I manage to convince her to only tell me the hardship she went through, spilling her heart to me."

Tom's expression changed to annoyance for a second.

"I had to convince her to separate herself from you, though. You see, Harry, all those times you tried to boost Ginny's mood, helping her gain a spot in Gryffindor's Reserve team—it kept interfering with my plans. Eventually I manage to convince her that you were only doing this because you were one of her brother's best friend."

Harry gritted his teeth and his hand clenched his wand as Riddle laughed a high cold laugh.

"If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny did what she was told and in the end poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted… I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fear, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of _my_ secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul into her."

"Y-you mean…" Harry said realizing what Tom meant.

"That's right, Harry Potter. Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school's roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the serpent of Slytherin on four Moodbloods, the ghost, and the Squib's cat."

Harry didn't want to believe Tom. Even if he did want to believe it, he couldn't.

"That can't be true!" Harry said. "Only a Parseltongue could get the the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets open, and I know for a fact that Ginny isn't one. Only way for that—"

Harry stopped realizing what Tom meant earlier.

"That's right, Harry Potter. When my soul transfer into Ginny, I was able to possess her and made her do such evil stuff and help her gain entrance into the Chamber of Secrets."

"Which makes you a parseltongue," Harry said. "So tell me Tom, if you had control over Ginny, how did I ended in possession of the diary."

"Well, that was an interesting story. You see, when I possessed Ginny, she went through what she referred as blacking out," Tom said. "It took her a while to realize that every time it happened, it was when she was in possession of the diary, and a little bit longer to stop trusting it. So she tried to dispose of it in the girl's bathroom where most of her blackouts occurred."

"Myrtle's Bathroom," Harry said.

"Yes, that's what you wizards and witches call it these days," Tom said. "It was to my delight when you found my diary, Harry. Of all people to find it, you did. The boy who survived the killing curse with nothing but a lightning scar. I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust."

"Well you failed there," Harry said. "I'd refused to believe Hagrid cause the attacks and locked up the diary."

"A minor setback. Fortunately, Ginny saw you having the diary and stoll it back to keep you from finding out she was behind the attacks, though," Tom said. "I just had hope you were as gullible as Armando Dippet was. Unfortunately, you were like Dumbledore, not fooled by a second. He certainly kept an annoying close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled," said Riddle. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long year I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"But you failed," Harry said. "Your snake was only able to petrified your victims. And by this time tomorrow all of them will be cured."

"Haven't I already told you," said Riddle quietly, "that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target was you. I had hope you would open the diary again, but when it was open, it turned out to be Ginny. As I said before, she was worried you found out what she been up to. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you., I knew you would go to any length to solve the mystery—particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue…"

"So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became _very_ boring. But there isn't much life left in her… she put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last… I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have so many questions for you Harry Potter. Such as how a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent—managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did _you_ escaped with nothing but a scar, while Lord's Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

"Why do you care? Voldemort was after your time!" Harry said. "He…"

Harry stopped as he remember what Aragog said about the last heir of Slytherin being vanquished and how Harry was told how he came to be a Parseltongue when Voldemort failed to kill him.

"He's you…" Harry responded. "You're Lord Voldemort."

"You think I was going to use my filthy Muffle father's name forever?" Tom asked. "I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wif e was a witch? No, Harry—I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I become the greatest sorcerer in the world."

"You're not the greatest sorcerer in the world!" Harry shouted in sudden in anger. "Albus Dumbledore is! Even your true self feared him!"

"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" he hissed.

"That's where you are wrong. Dumbledore will never truly leave Hogwarts as long as there are people still loyal to him here!" Harry responded. "And that includes me!"

Riddle open his mouth, but froze.

Music of a bird echoed through the chamber. Riddle and Harry turned to the entrance to see where it was coming from.

Then, out of the darkness, a crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping down it's weird song to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden tallons which were gripping a bundle.

"Fawkes!" Harry responded as he recognized the bird as Dumbledore's pet phoenix. "Over here Fawkes!"

Faux flew toward Harry and dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder and gazed at Riddle with it's black beady eyes. Harry looked down to see what the Fawkes send him and saw that it was the sorting hat.

Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark Chamber echoed with it.

"This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A song bird and an old Hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?'

Harry looked down at the sorting hat, which had sorted thousands of students for hundreds of years. Magically enchanted by the founders to sort students accordingly to their beliefs.

 _Something Dumbledore wouldn't have sent me if he didn't think I would need it,_ Harry thought

Then Harry smirked as he kneeled down carefully to not disturb Fawkes and picked up the hat. "Tom, do you really want to know how I survived your attack eleven years ago?" Harry asked. "I survived because my muggle-born mother sacrificed herself and casted a powerful protection charm over me that the real you couldn't overcome! And her charm still protects me to this day!"

At first Riddle's face was contorted. Then he forced into an awful smile.

"So your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful counter charm. But let's see how good that charm and the gifts from Dumbledore protects you from the monster of the Chamber of secrets."

Tom walked up to the statue of Salazar Slytherin and spoke in hisses of a Parseltongue that Harry understood.

 _"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four._

Slytherin's gigantic stone face started moving as it opened wide enough to make a huge black hole.

Harry stared in horror as something inside the mouth stirred and started slithering up from its depths.

Harry backed away until he hit the dark Chamber wall, and as he shut his eyes tight he felt Fawkes' wing sweep his cheek a he took flight.

Now Harry was scared. If the Fawkes left him then things were grimmer than he thought.

Something huge hit the stone floor of the chamber. Harry felt it shutter, and he knew it was the giant serpent. He could sense it.

Then he heard Riddle's voice hissing: _"Kill him."_

 _This is it, I'm so dead,_ Harry thought.

But instead of the snake attacking, Harry heard it hissing, and something thrashing wildly off the pillars.

Harry couldn't take it anymore and opened his eyes to a squint to see what was going.

The serpent was bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk. It had raised itself high in the air and its giant blunt head weaving drunkenly between the pillars as the Fawkes soared over it.

At first Harry was confused, until Fawkes dived trying to keep the snake occupied.

 _"NO!"_ Harry heard Riddle screamed. _"LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS RIGHT THERE! YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM! KILL HIM."_

Harry understood now. Fawkes increased Harry's chance against the basilisk by blinding it. It can't kill Harry with its eyes if it's blind.

Still Harry knew Fawkes wouldn't stand a chance alone. It need help and although Harry still had his wand, he didn't know any spells that would work on it.

 _Now or never,_ Harry thought to himself as he put away his wand and put on the sorting hat. _All right sorting hat. Dumbledore send you to me to help me. So help me, please!"_

There was no answer but what Harry did get was something very hard and heavy thudded on the top of his head, almost knocking him out. Harry shook the stars winking in his eyes as he grabbed the top of the hat to pull it off and felt something long and hard beneath it.

A gleaming silver sword had appeared inside the hat, its handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs and a name etched into the blade: Godric Gryffindor.

Harry was amazed and shock as he recognized the name as the name of the founder of Gryffindor House.

 _The sword must of belonged to him,_ Harry thought as he picked up the sword. Despite this being the first time Harry ever held a sword, this sword felt right in Harry's hands. Like it belonged in his hands.

 _"KILL THE BOY! LEAVE THE BIRD! SNIFF THE BOY OUT! SMELL HIM!"_

Harry had an idea of how to kill the monster.

 _"Hey pea brain!"_ Harry yelled in Parseltongue. _"Over here._ "

As Harry hoped the serpent turned to him with its bloody eyes sockets. It opened it's mouth wide enough to swallow Harry whole, revealing it's long venomous fangs. Then it lunged at Harry at the speed Harry only had seconds to act.

Harry raised his sword and rove it into the roof of the serpent's mouth.

Sadly Harry didn't get off unscathed, as blood drenched his arms. Harry felt a searing pain just above his elbow. One long poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into his arm and it splintered as the basilisk keel over sideways and fell, twitching on the floor.

Harry slid to down the wall as he yanked the fang out of his arm. It was too late though as the poison coursed his body, spreading pain along with it. His blood soaked his robes as his vision went foggy.

"You're dead, Harry Potter nothing can cure basilisk venom. And I'm going to sit here and watch you die!"

Then Harry remembered something Dumbledore told him about the fawkes during one of his visits—one of the magical properties a phoenix has other than being reborn from the ashes.

 _It has healing powers, Harry,_ Dumbledore said. _Healing powers that cure even the most powerful poisons and vemons—as long as the person receives it in time, of course._

It was a long shot, but Harry had hope that meant Basilisk vemon as well. Harry mustered his strength and croaked out. "Fawkes!"

Fawkes landed next to Harry.

"Tears. I need tears." Harry said.

Fawkes must have understood as its head lowered and tears poured from its eyes and hit Harry's wound.

"So ends the famous Harry Potter," said Riddle's distant voice. "Alone in the Chamber of secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dead Mudblood mother soon, Harry… she bought you twelve years of borrowed time… but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must…"

Harry droned Riddle out as everything else started dissolving. It seemed that phoenix tears couldn't heal basilisk venom after all.

Then, just when Harry thought he was dying, the pain was dissolved and Harry's vision cleared and more focus. Harry gasped, unaware that he wasn't breathing too well. Harry looked at his wound and saw it was completely healed.

"How? This is impossible!" Riddle yelled.

"You should have paid more attention at in your classes that doesn't involve the dark arts, Tom," Harry said as he got up causing Fawkes to fly off. "If you did, you know that Phoenix tears contain healing powers that can cure even the strongest venom and poison if the person receives it in time."

Tom looked into Harry's face. "No matter. It makes no difference. You're too late to save your friend, and I'll have the honor of killing you myself."

Tom raised lockhart's wand at Harry, but Harry was quicker as he draw out his own wand. _"Expelliarmus!"_

Lockhart's wand blew out of Tom's hands to the far reaches of the Tunnel.

Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and drop something in Harry's lap—the diary.

Without a second though, Harry grabbed the basilisk fang next to him and jabbed it at the book.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream as ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands and flooding the floor. Harry twisted the fang as Riddle screamed in pain once more. Then it was quiet.

Harry looked up and saw that Riddle was gone. Harry chuckled half hysterical and half-relief.

Then came a faint moan from the end of the Chamber. Harry almost forgot about Ginny until he looked to see that she was stirring.

Harry got up rushed over to Ginny as she sit up. "Ginny, you're alive!"

Ginny looked at Harry bewildered and confused until she saw the dead basilisk, Harry's blood soaked robes, and the diary in Harry's hands. Then she gasped and tears began to pour down her face.

"Harry—oh, Harry—I tried to tell you at breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy—it was _me_ , Harry—but I—I s-swear I d-didn't mean to—Riddle somehow took over me and—"

"It's okay, Ginny, Riddle already told me everything." Harry said. "But he's not a threat anymore. He's finished! So is his Basilisk. We're safe."

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny wept. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and— _w-what'll Mum and Dad say?_ "

"I think your parent would be more relief of the fact you're alive than the possibility of you being expelled," Harry laughed. "Don't worry, Ginny. I'll explain everything to McGonagall what really happened so you won't be expelled. I'll even take a truth serum to confirm it if I have to. She can't expel you due to the inability to control your actions."

Ginny nodded as Harry helped her up. They only stopped to pick up the sword and the sorting hat along the way as Harry didn't feel right leaving either here. He also brought the diary to use as evidence. Ginny also picked up Lockhart's wand after Harry told her who it belonged to and how it ended up down there. Ginny did believe Harry, but she felt it was only right they bring it.

They didn't have time to leave the chamber before Ron's voice echoed from Harry's pocket. "Harry! Harry! Are you there Harry? Neville and I broke through the wall! We're heading your way!"

Harry reached in his pocket and took out his mirror and saw Ron on the other end. "Ron, it's okay. The basilisk is already killed, and Ginny is okay. You don't need to come all the way here!"

However Ron stopped listening after hearing Ginny's name.

"What? Ginny is there? She's alive! That's great! Neville! My sister is alive."

"I heard Ron! Now would you please help me with Professor Lockhart!" Neville yelled.

"What's wrong with Lockhart?" Harry asked.

"His memory's gone," said Ron. "The memory charm backfired when my old wand exploded and hit him instead of us. He has no clue who he is, or where he is. But he's too much dangerous to leave alone so we brought him with us. Now give the mirror to my sister. I want to talk to her."

Ginny reluctantly took the mirror to talk to Ron. It made no difference to harry as it give him more time to rest. Especially since they still have a long climb ahead of them back to Myrtle's Bathroom.


	18. A Reward Well Deserved

**A/N:** I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone

* * *

 **A Reward Well Deserved**

It turned out no one needed to climb out of the long pipe as the Fawkes was able to carry all of them.

After a long tearful and (in Lockhart's case) confuse reunion, they reached the pipe that headed up to Myrtle's bathroom and Fawkes carried them up the pipe as they held onto each other up to the top and let them down on the wet floor before the sink that hid the pipe slid back into place.

Myrtle goggled at them. Apparently she was hoping Harry would die and join her on haunting her toilet which made things really awkward for everyone.

"Harry, I seriously think Myrtle has a crush on you," Ron said.

"Let's please not talk about that," Harry said.

"So where now?" Neville asked.

"To find Professor McGonagall," Harry said. "We need to tell her what really happened so Ginny doesn't get expelled."

It wasn't hard as Fawkes led them to McGonagall's office where Harry knocked and push the door open and was in a surprise as James, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were there, who were staring at them in complete shock as the five of them were still covered in slime and in Harry's case blood.

Mrs. Weasley ended up being the one who broke the silence by screaming: _"Ginny!"_

Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire, leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter.

"Harry—what—how—why—" James said in shock that his son was covered in blood.

Mrs. Weasley didn't give James time to form a question as she pulled Ron Neville and Harry into a hug. "You saved her! You save her! _How_ did you do it?"

"I think we all like to know that," said Professor McGonagall.

Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry, who hesitated for a moment. Then he walked over to the desk and laid upon it the Sorting Hat, the sword, and the diary. Fawkes also decided to fly in and take his spot next to Dumbledore.

Then Harry told them everything that happened: him hearing the disembodied voice, how Hermione had finally realized he was hearing a basilisk in the pipes; how he Neville and Ron had followed the spiders into the forest, that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how he had figured out how Moaning Myrtle was the victim from the story of how she died, and the entrance to the Chamber of secrets might be in her bathroom.

He also told them their journey into the Chamber of Secrets with Lockhart (which Harry made sure to reveal that Lockhart confessed of being a fraud), Lockhart trying to use Ron's broken wand which Harry told Ron to grab incase Lockhart tried to do something and grabs the wand by mistake. He explained though how he didn't plan for Ron's old wand to explode and cause a cave in that separated him from the group.

Harry then told them about Tom Riddle being Voldemort, the diary containing a piece of voldemort's memory that possessed Ginny into doing horrible things. How Voldemort summoned the basilisk, and Fawkes showing up in time to drop off the sorting hat and blinding the basilisk so Harry wouldn't fight blindly, killing the Basilisk, Fawkes saving him from the venom, stabbing Voldemort's diary with the fang that pierced harry. Basically Harry told them everything.

Everyone was shock to hear that Voldemort was behind it all, but even was more surprise of how Harry defeated him and saved Ginny in the process.

"Brilliant," Dumbledore said as he took the the diary. "Absolutely brilliant I must admit."

"Dumbledore, you can't expel Ginny," Harry said. "she wasn't in control of her own actions. Voldemort told me himself. I'll even go under the truth serum to confirm it in front of the Minister…"

"There's no need, Harry. I believe you," Dumbledore said. "Fortunately there was laws made during a dark days that pardoned someone of any wrong doings if they were confirmed to have no control over their actions, and with your statement and the fact Voldemort revealed it himself—probably because he didn't think you would escape death again may I add—I believe Miss Weasley's case falls under it's jurisdiction."

Ginny cried with joy hearing the good news.

Even Harry sighed with relief until he felt someone place their hand on Harry's head. Harry looked up to see it was James, who was smiling down at him.

"Now, I think Miss. Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away for some much need bed rest and perhaps a cup of chocolate too help cheer her up," Dumbledore said. "You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving Mandrake juice—I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Hermione's okay!" said Ron brightly.

"There has been no lasting harm done," Dumbledore said.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley gave Harry their last thank you hugs and Ginny send Harry a grateful look before heading out. Judging from Mr. Weasley's expression, Harry had a feeling that once Ginny is feeling better he'll be scolding her for trusting a diary that wrote back.

"James, why don't you go to the owlery and send an owl to Mr. Black about getting our Gameskeeper back," Dumbledore said. "And I also believe now is a good time to go through the plans we made for our next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

James nodded. "Yes sir." With that James left.

"You know, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Professor McGonagall, "I think all this merits a good _feast_. Might I ask you to go alert the kitchens?"

"Right," said Professor McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom."

"Certainly," Dumbledore said.

She left, leaving Harry Ron and Neville there with the Headmaster, who were nervous after hearing McGonagall saying that.

"Boys, I want you to know that when a student break as many rules as you have in one year it normally results to expulsion," Dumbledore said. "However, normally when that many rules are broken, it's not to save the lives of your classmates much less a sibling. Because of it, I decided not to punish you, but rather give each of you Special Service Awards for Services to the school as well as two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor. Now Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, would you two please escort Professor Lockhart to the Medical wing as well. I'd like to have a few more words with Harry…"

"Am I a professor?" Lockhart asked from the corner of the room, mild surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?"

Ron and Neville reluctantly escorted Lockhart out of the office.

Dumbledore crossed to one of the chairs by the fire.

"Sit down, Harry," he said.

Harry did as he was told, feeling relieved once more that he wan't in trouble.

"First of all, Harry, I want to thank you," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes. "You showed true loyalty down in the Chamber—to me and the school—which is why Fawkes showed up like he did."

He stroked the phoenix, which had fluttered down to his knees.

"Also I thought you would be happy to know that with the new evidence of what happened to Myrtle fifty years ago, I have decided to have The Special Service award to Voldemort removed from the trophy room." Dumbledore said. "There's not much I can do for the other awards he earned as Tom Riddle, but I think we both agree there's no need to keep a trophy to someone we know didn't deserve it."

Harry smiled hearing it but frowned a bit. "Professor, about the sword—did it really belong to Godric Gryffindor?"

"Yes, I believe it did," Dumbledore said.

"Then how did I summon it?" Harry asked.

"Well, Harry, to answer your question, Before Godric was well aware of Salazar Slytherin's threat being real. So before he died, he magically bound sword into a magical wizards hat that he and the founders created to help sort out their students my their qualities—"

"The sorting hat," Harry said.

Dumbledore said. "He bound the sword to the sorting hat so that even if the sword is nowhere near the hat if a true Gryffindor ever shows up and shows true courage in the face of danger while within possession of the hat, it would magically appear in it."

Just then the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.

Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs heavily wrapped in bandages, was _Dobby_.

 _Dobby belongs to the Malfoy family,_ Harry thought. _No wonder he was scared of saying bad things about them._

"Good evening, Lucius," said Dumbledore pleasantly.

Mr. Malfoy rushed into the room as Dobby tried to follow so he could clean his shoes. Mr. Malfoy didn't seem focus on Dobby though as his eyes were fixed on Dumbledore.

"So!" he said "You've come back. The governors suspend you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."

"Well, you see, Lucius," said Dumbledore, smiling serenely, "the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too… several of them seemed to think that you have threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

Mr. Malfoy went even paler than usual, but his eyes were still slits of fury.

"So—have you stopped the attacks yet?" he sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have," said Dumbledore, nodding to Harry.

"Well?" said Mr. Malfoy sharply. "Who is it?"

"The same person as last time, Lucius: Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."

He held up the small black book with the large hole through the center, watching Mr. Malfoy closely. Harry on other hands was watching Dobby.

Dobby had his great eyes fixed meaningfully on Harry. He kept pointing at the diary, then at Mr. Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist."

Fortunately, Harry had enough experience with Dobby and enough intelligence to fit into Ravenclaw House to understood. But he still trying to figure out why Ginny.

"I see…" said Mr. Malfoy slowly to Dumbledore.

"A clever plan," said Dumbledore in a level voice, still staring at Mr. Malfoy straight in the eye. "Because if our very own second generation of Maurders: Harry"—Mr. Malfoy shot Harry a swift, sharp look—"Ron and Neville, hadn't discovered this book, why—Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted on her own free will…"

Mr. Malfoy said nothing as his face was suddenly masklike.

"And imagine," Dumbledore went on, "what might have happened then… The Weasley are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle-born… Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Ridde's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise."

Mr. Malfoy forced himself to speak

"Very fortunate," he said stiffly.

Now Harry understood. He remembered Draco Malfoy bragging about his dad having a plan on how to stop the muggle protection act to him and Ron when they used the Polyjuice Potion to disguise themselves as Crabbe and Goyle. But he and Ron didn't think much about it at the time since the Malfoys were trying something to go against it. Now Harry wished he had took it more seriously.

He also realized Dobby was still trying to warn him, so Harry quickly nodded before Dobby actually knock his own lights out.

"Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?" said Harry.

Lucius Malfoy round on him.

"How should I know how that stupid little girl got hold of it?" he said.

"I think you do. I think you gave it to her," Harry said. "Back in Flourish and Blotts, when you picked up Ginny's stack of Lockhart books, you slipped it into the stack before throwing it back to her. Am I right?"

He saw Mr. Malfoy's white hands clench and unclench.

"Prove it," he hissed.

"I'm afraid Harry can't," said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. "Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. I don't think the pardon you got when you fooled the Minister of Magic of your innocents will save you if any more of them find their way into innocent hands."

Lucius Malfoy stood for a moment, and Harry saw his right hand twitched as though he was longing to reach for his wand. Instead, he turned to his house-elf.

"We're going, Dobby!"

He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. They could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor. Harry stood for a moment, thinking hard. Then it came to him—"

"Professor Dumbledore," he said hurriedly. "Can I give that diary _back_ to Mr. Malfoy, please?"

"Certainly, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly. "But do hurry. I don't want you to miss the feast in you and your friend's honor."

Harry nodded and grabbed the diary and dashed out of the office. He could hear Dobby's squeals of pain receding around the corner.

 _I hope my plan works,_ Harry thought as he manage to take off one of his shoes and pull of his slimy, filthy sock, stuffed the sock into the diary, and then slid his shoe back on. Then he ran down the dark corridor.

He caught up with them at the top of the stairs.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry gasped, skidding to a halt. "You forgot this!"

Harry shoved the diary at Lucius' hands. "I don't think your _lord_ would be happy if you leave that in his enemies' hands."

Mr. Malfoy glared at Harry and shoved the diary into Dobby's hands.

"You'll meet the same sticky end as your mother one of these day, Harry Potter," he said softly. "You and your meddling father!"

He turned around and Harry quickly mouthed Dobby, _open it._

Thankfully, Dobby understood and opened the diary and found the sock inside.

"Come, Dobby. I said, _come._ "

But Dobby didn't move. He was holding up Harry's disgusting dirty sock, looking at it as though it were a priceless treasure. Which might as well be.

"Master has given a sock," said the elf in wonderment. "Master gave it to dobby.'

"What's that?" spat Mr. Malfoy. "What did you say?"

"Got a sock," said Dobby in disbelief. "Master threw the book with the sock inside to Dobby, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby is _free_."

Lucuis Malfoy stood frozen staring at the elf as Harry smirked. Harry knew a house elf can't be freed unless it's master gave them a piece of clothing. But there were no rules saying that the master had to know they gave their House elf a piece of clothing. Mostly because no one would ever think that the master would be tricked into doing that the way Lucius Malfoy just was.

Then Lucius lunged at harry.

"You lost me my servant, boy!"

But Dobby shouted, "You shall not harm Harry Potter!"

There was a loud bang, and Mr. Malfoy was thrown backward. He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below .He got up, his face livid, and pulled out his wand, but dobby raised a long threatening finger.

"You shall go now," he said fiercely, pointing down at Malfoy. You shall not touch Harry Potter. You shall go now."

Lucius Malfoy had no choice. With a last incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cloak around him and hurried out of sight.

"Harry Potter freed Dobby!" said the elf shrilly, gazing up at Harry, moonlight from the nearest window reflected in his orb like eyes. "Harry Potter set Dobby free!"

"It's the least I could do, Dobby. That info you punished yourself to give were just as much help is saving Ginny's life," Harry said. "Just promise the next time you want to save my life—don't do it in the matter where it could severely injured or kill me."

"Dobby promised!" Dobby said.

Harry thought of something else. "Hey Dobby, how do you feel working for Hogwarts where House Elves are treated fairly."

"Dobby would love too sir," Dobby said.

"Go back to the office where the Headmaster is at, and ask for a job," Harry said. "Tell him Harry Potter recommend you for the job. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would even agree to pay you and let you work as a free elf if you asked. That way you can visit me all you want while I'm at school."

Dobby responded by throwing his arms around Harry' middle and hugged him. he sobbed.

"Dobby will go ask Professor Dumbledore for the job." He sobbed. "Harry potter I greater by far than Dobby knew!"

And with that Dobby scurried up the stairs to meet up with Dumbledore about the job.

…

Harry been to more Hogwarts feast than he can count, but he never been to one where students were allowed to wear pajamas and the rules where you only sit at the table of the house you were sorted into was lifted for the night. Ravenclaws Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors and a few cunning but not-dark slytherins mingled at each other's table, celebrating the fact that the school was safe.

Of course only those of slytherin house who were disappointed of the fact that the Monster of the Chamber of Secrets were destroyed stayed at their own table, nor invited anyone else to their table, but it just show everyone which Slytherins they can trust, and which ones they can't.

It was also the first celebration Harry seen where the Parents of one of the students was there to attend as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat at the head table talking to James. Harry still had no idea what sort of plans his dad and Dumbledore made for the next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but he was too busy celebrating to care.

Sometime during the celebration, Harry saw Luna Lovegood sitting in isolation at the Ravenclaw table.

"Hold on guys," Harry said as he got up and headed to Luna.

"Oh, hello Harry," Luna said. "Congraduation on saving the school."

"Thanks Luna. I'm actually here to see if you want to join my friends and me in Gryffindor Table since the rules of sitting arrangements is lifted for the night," Harry said.

"Are you sure?" Luna asked.

"Positive. After all, you helped us found out about the Chamber of Secrets with your advice about your dad's article." Harry said.

Luna nodded and got up to join Harry at Gryffindor table.

Part of the way through the celebration, Hermione showed up, running toward Harry Ron and Neville, screaming, "You solved it! You solved it!"

Justin also showed up to thank Harry and to apologize for suspecting him.

"Justin and I as well as Collin and Penelope forgave Ginny while we were in the Hospital wing," Hermione said. "She told us how she wasn't in control of her actions."

"Speaking of Penelope," Ron said pointing to his brother Percy—who normally is strictly by the rules—at Ravenclaw table, kissing Penelope Clearwater. "I guess we now know who Percy was owling all summer."

Everyone laughed.

Hagrid came half past three, cuffing Harry Ron and Neville each by the shoulders that they were knocked into their plates if trifle.

"Thank you three," Hagrid said. "If it wasn't fer yer three, I'd still be in prison."

Then came the announcements starting off the the six hundred points to Gryffindor, which caused a huge cheer from Gryffindors spread out through the hall. Dumbledore also announced that three new plaques will be added tomorrow to Harry Ron and Neville for their service to Hogwarts. Quidditch would be started again next semester since it's too far late in the season to start up again and the Emergency rules would be suspended until there comes a time where they might need it again.

Dumbledore also announced that Exams are cancelled as well as Defense Against the Dark Arts for the rest of the year, much to everyone's enjoyment or (in Hermione's case) dismay.

"Too bad," Ron said. "Neville and I were actually growing attach to Lockhart since without his memory, he's less egotistic."

Harry laughed.

…

The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few days.

News came out of Lucius Malfoy being sacked as school governor, which actually made Draco less unpleasant since he no longer can strut around the school like he own the place. Although he did have a resentful and sulky self.

Ginny on other hand was back to her normal happy self, and began socializing with Harry Ron Neville and Hermione again. She also came to be close friends with Luna Lovegood, since she found out Luna had some help in saving her life, so Ginny finally had friends her own age.

Dobby did get a job in Hogwarts as a well paid free elf. Which means unlike most house elves, Dobby will be given fresh new clothes when needed instead of having his old clothes patch up, as well as receiving pay for his work. From what Harry heard, Dobby was getting along with Bunny and the other Potter family house-elves that worked in Hogwarts.

Soon it was time to go home and everyone boarded on the Hogwarts express. James did as well, but unlike last year, he decided to join some of the older students to give his son time with his friends.

They got off at Kingcross and loaded their trunks into trolleys.

"See you guys two weeks from now," Harry said.

"You don't sound happy," Hermione said.

"You wouldn't be either if you met my aunt and uncle," Harry said. "Especially since they're probably going to brag about their new Condo as well as everything else they had planned to by with Uncle Vernon's pay raise after making his deal."

"Come on, Harry!" James yelled. "It's our turn, and we don't want to keep your Aunt and Uncle waiting."

Harry groaned as he followed his dad out of platform 9 and ¾ to the real world. The whole time Harry thought to himself how much he rather fight the Basilisk one more time than spend another two weeks with the Dursleys.

* * *

 **A/N:** This is the Final chapter of 'The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: the Chamber of Secrets'. I'll get to work on the sequel after this is posted and hope to get at least the first chapter posted before January.

Please keep in mind to vote on the poll on my bio page for what story do you want me to update this January.

Now for the Sequel...

" **The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Prisoner of Azkaban"**

 **Summary:** Peter Petegrew has escaped and on the loose. Things are more tense for Harry than ever as he now have to worry about the Rat that betrayed his dad's trust and is responsible for his mother's death, as well as deal with the Dementors that now guard the school. At least Harry's uncle Moony will be there with his dad to help keep an eye on Harry, right? Third story of the seven story series.


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